


Plan Bi

by bisexuallaurel



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Plan B AU, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2018-11-05 14:59:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11015778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexuallaurel/pseuds/bisexuallaurel
Summary: When Jace sees Clary with her new boyfriend, he regrets ever breaking up with her. To get her back, he hatches an elaborate scheme that involves Jace seducing Clary's new boyfriend. He thought he'd planned it all perfectly but the one thing he hadn't accounted for was how charming Simon Lewis would turn out to be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: this fic is based on the movie "Plan B" so there'll be similarities but also a lot of differences. Also, tags and possibly ratings will change as more chapters go up!
> 
> \---
> 
> This chapter is kinda short and there's some straight pining (I know, I'm sorry) but it'll get gayer I swear.

**CHAPTER 1**

_Jace_

The park is a serene picture of perfection on this surprisingly warm autumn’s day. People are strewn about on blankets, playing card games and having picnics and laughing together. Everyone seems happy and content, with the sun warming their skin.

Jace Lightwood is no different. Sort of.

“Jace, can you pass the soda?”

He turns to his right and blinks. “Sorry?”

“Pass the soda,” the girl, Izzy, repeats; eyebrows raised.

“Right, yeah,” Jace says, and reaches for the bottle. He hands it to his sister.

“Geez, what’s up with you?” she asks as she pours herself another drink. “You’ve been weird all day.”

“I’m not weird,” Jace says automatically. “Stunning, charismatic, amazing, sure. But not weird.”

“Sure, whatever,” Izzy says, rolling her eyes. She lays down on the blanket and puts on her sun glasses.

While Jace would never admit it, she’s not entirely wrong.

He crosses his legs and pours himself a drink, too. As he’s about to take a sip, a flash of red in the corner of his eye almost makes him drop his glass.

A girl with flaming red hair comes into view. She’s wearing a summer dress with daisies under a worn jeans jacket, and she’s smiling bright as the sun.

Jace smiles to himself.

 _Pretty as always_ , he thinks.

He’s about to go say hi, when he suddenly stills. The world around him slows down.

The girl comes to a stop in front of a guy around Jace’s age; a guy with thick glasses and brown hair. The girl beams at him and pecks him on the lips.

Jace’s heart beats faster.

Of course.

He broke up with Clary a few months ago, and of course she’s found a new boyfriend. She’s never single for long, always having people lining up to date her.

Why did he break up with her again?

She looks so pretty, with her long hair and her bright smile. God, he made a mistake.

“Hello? Earth to Jace?”

Izzy is waving a hand in front of his face, looking quite impatient.

Jace looks back at her. “What?”

“I’m talking to you,” she says. “What are you even doing?”

She looks around them, and Jace can tell when her eyes land on Clary purely on what she says next.

“Oh.”

Apparently that explains everything.

Izzy looks at him. “Are you still hung up on her?”

Jace shrugs, and looks away.

Clary is still talking to that guy. Who even is he? He looks so bland. Those stupid glasses, and that basic no-personality clothing. What could she possibly see in him?

He grits his teeth.

“Jace,” Izzy says, a warning in her voice. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” he says, but they both know it’s not true. He stands up. “I’ve got to head home. See you later?”

“Sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” she asks. She looks concerned.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll just walk home, clear my head. I'll be fine,” Jace says. And for a moment, he believes it.

 

\--------------------

 

“Fuck.”

The word is spoken quietly, like an admission of guilt into the void.

Jace rolls over onto his stomach and buries his head in his pillow.

_Fuck._

He can’t stop thinking about Clary, the way she smells and the way she would look at him before they kissed, and--

That guy. That fucking guy. Standing there with her, kissing her and making her laugh. How dared he?

Jace sighs. He knows it’s unfair to blame him, but he can’t help it. He seems to make Clary happy, so Jace should be happy for her. And for him.

But god, he can’t stop thinking about her, and what they had. Why had he ever broken up with her?

He rolls onto his back again, and presses the pads of his fingers against his eyelids.

And then, as suddenly as the idea hits him, he sits up.

   


 

_Simon_

 

Simon doesn’t usually work out, like, ever. But for the past month or so, he’s actually committed himself to a gym and he goes there once a week.

It might have something to do with his new girlfriend. They've barely known each other a month and they haven’t even gone to second base yet but Simon likes to be prepared, so he joined a gym.

As usual, Simon starts with the treadmill and works his way over to the weights. Halfway through his admittedly quite short routine, he stops to drink some water.

His arms are burning, his face is red-hot and the relief of the water is greatly welcome. He allows himself a few moments to rest before going back to lifting. After having desperately downed half of the water in a few risky gulps, he takes a handful of small sips now and then as he looks around the gym.

People are sweating, grunting and being generally unpleasant all around him. He cringes at a man in his 50’s who gives him a onceover and winks. Simon quickly looks away.

And his eyes fall on a guy around his own age, who’s sitting on a bench on the other side of the room. He seems to be done with his own workout, because he’s panting and has a towel pressed to his forehead. He flips the towel and puts it back against his forehead with a sigh.

Then he looks straight at Simon.

Simon doesn’t look away immediately. He wants to, but he doesn’t. For a few moments, they just stare at each other.

Finally, Simon catches his bearings and looks down at his water bottle. He takes another sip, and forces himself to wait ten seconds before looking up again. The guy isn’t looking back, so Simon allows himself to linger.

He looks familiar. Simon is sure he’s seen him somewhere, but he has no idea where. There’s something about the shade of golden blonde of his hair that resonates with him. It feels like the answer is at the tip of his tongue, but he can’t quite get to it.

Just as he thinks he’s about to solve the mystery, the guy glances at him, and then away just as quickly.

It happens again, and again, and again. And even when Simon himself isn’t looking, he can feel himself being watched. It’s weird, but kind of exciting in a way.

And then, as quickly as it began, it’s over. The guy gets up and leaves, without a glance in Simon’s direction.

 _Well that's it then_ , Simon thinks, and goes back to his workout.

He puts in another ten minutes, but then gives in. His muscles are sore and he just wants to go take a hot, steaming shower. So he does.

It does wonders for his aching limbs, and he kind of wishes he could stay under the shower head forever. But he doesn’t.

He wraps a towel around his waist and goes out to the locker room. He almost stops mid-step, however, because right next to his gym bag sits the mysterious guy with the golden hair.

Shaken, he forces himself to keep walking and to sit down next to the guy. He’s careful not to make any eye contact as he hoists his gym bag onto his lap and pulls out clean clothes to change into.

As usual this early in the morning, the locker room is fairly silent except for the occasional exchange of pleasantries, or the rustling of clothing. The guy doesn’t say anything, and neither does Simon.

He puts on a plain pair of jeans and his favorite t-shirt, a promotional shirt he bought before the airing of the second part of season 1 of The Get Down, his favorite show.

He sits back down and starts putting on his socks.

“Do you watch The Get Down?” the guy says suddenly.

Simon is so surprised, he misses his foot with the second sock and almost hits himself in the face.

He straightens up and looks at the guy, who’s drying his hair and looking attentively at him. “Uh, yeah. I’m a huge fan.”

“No way,” the guy says, smiling. “That's awesome. I just got into it last week. It’s so good, right?”

“Really?” Simon says, genuinely surprised. He shifts so he’s angled towards the guy as he continues, “I don’t know anyone else who watches it. It’s so good.”

“Isn’t it? My brother Alec introduced me to it. I don’t have Netflix but he does so I borrowed his and now I’m hooked. It’s so good I’m almost considering getting it for myself. I don’t really have the money though.”

“Ah that sucks.”

“Yeah,” the guy says with a shrug and a smile.

Simon smiles back.

They look at each other without saying anything for a few seconds, waiting for the other to speak, until the guy looks away and keeps drying his hair.

Simon does the same.

They quietly go about their business for a while. Then Simon turns to him and says, “You could borrow my account if you want.”

“Really? You’d do that?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“That’s so cool, thanks man.”

He grins widely and gives Simon’s shoulder a friendly slap. Then he leans over and flips his hair forward to towel dry it some more. If Simon didn’t know better, he’d say that time slowed down and the wet strands of hair danced through the air in cinematic slow motion while a sensuous track played in the background and single droplets of water dramatically landed on Simon who just watched in awe, his jaw slack.

Of course that didn’t really happen and instead Simon ends up staring at the back of the guy’s neck until he straightens up again and Simon proceeds to look anywhere but at his face in fear of exposing what he’d been thinking of.

To occupy his hands, Simon grabs his hoodie and pulls it on, slowly zipping it up. He puts on his shoes and stuffs the towel and the gym clothes into his bag. Just as he’s about to get up and leave, he hears himself say, “Or you could come watch it at my place.”

“Yeah?” the guy asks. He’s smiling. “Tonight?”

“Yeah, if you want,” Simon says. He rubs the back of his neck.

“Cool.” The guy turns around and rummages around his bag before turning back to Simon, brandishing a pen. He holds out his hand, palm up. “Give me your hand.”

Simon obliges. The guy gently closes his fingers around Simon’s wrist and scribbles down a series of numbers on the back of his hand.

“There. Text me your address?”

“Sure,” Simon says, nodding. He’s not sure what’s happening but he thinks it’s good.

The guy gets to his feet and nods. “Awesome. See ya tonight.” And with that, he leaves.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: this fic is based on the movie "Plan B" so there'll be similarities but also a lot of differences. Also, tags and possibly ratings will change as more chapters go up!
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented, gave kudos, reblogged the post on Tumblr or otherwise engaged with the first chapter of this story. It means a lot to me and really inspires me to keep writing!
> 
> Content warnings for this chapter:  
> \- drinking (will feature in later chapters as well)  
> \- smoking (one scene)  
> \- some cursing

Chapter 2

_Jace_

 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“ _No_.”

“I assure you, I’m completely serious.”

Izzy shakes her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s a solid plan though,” Jace says. “And _you_ inspired it, Iz.”

“How is this _my_ fault?”

“Remember how you told me that Clary told you–”

“Oh my god, are we still in high school?” Izzy groans.

Jace gives her a _look_  and she dutifully closes her mouth, although the way she purses her lips tells him she’s nowhere near done with him.

“So you told me that Clary told you that her new,” he swallows around a lump in his throat at the B word, ”boyfriend has dated guys before.”

“He’s not straight, so what?” Izzy says, shrugging. “Lots of people aren’t straight and they still don’t want to fuck you, Jace.”

“Well, let's hope he does,” Jace says. “Besides, I’m not _actually_ going to sleep with him. I’ll just…. Make him fall in love with me.”

Izzy shakes her head. “I love you, but this is ridiculous.”

Jace sighs and looks over at his best friend who has been suspiciously quiet during the whole conversation so far. “What do you think?”

“Well..." Meliorn is a tender-hearted florist who’s a few years older than both of the Lightwoods and is usually the one to reign in Jace’s ridiculous ideas. “It does sound… odd.”

“What about it is odd?” Jace asks, frowning.

“The part where you seduce your ex-girlfriend’s current boyfriend,” Izzy deadpans.

“Well I’m not going to marry him or anything,” Jace says, rolling his eyes, as if they are the ones acting strange. “I'll just… distract him so I can win Clary back.”

“You do realize Clary isn’t some prize you can ‘win back’?” Izzy says. There’s an edge to her voice.

“You know I don’t mean it like that,” Jace says. “I just… I need time with her to show her how sorry I am and that I still want to be with her.”

“Even if she doesn’t want to be with you?” Izzy asks.

“Well, maybe she does. _She_ didn’t dump _me_ , you know.”

“Arrogant as always,” Izzy sighs. “How do you even know he’d be interested?”

Jace gestures to himself. “Have you seen me? Who wouldn’t be into all this?”

“I wouldn’t,” Izzy and Meliorn say in unison. They exchange amused smiles.

“Ha ha,” Jace grimaces. “Sisters and best friends don’t count. Besides, he invited me over to watch The Get Down tonight.”

“Oh wow, that’s definitely code for ‘hey let’s bang’,” Izzy says saltily.

Jace sticks out his tongue at her. “Maybe not, but after a few glasses of wine, some well-chosen compliments? Who knows.”

“Whatever,” Izzy says, and gets up. “I’ve gotta go. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” She ruffles Jace’s hair, much to his annoyance.

“Bye Iz,” Meliorn says, and waves as she leaves the kitchen. He wraps his fingers around his mug of tea and addresses Jace, “I can tell you're already set on this, but have you really thought it through?”

Jace groans. “Not you too.”

Meliorn continues quickly. “I’m not being critical. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Me?” Jace scoffs. “It’s not me you should be worried about.”

“Well, you do have a very gentle heart,” Meliorn says. He takes a sip of his tea. “And you don’t guard it very well.”

“What are you saying? That I’ll fall in love with this dude?” Jace asks, and he almost laughs at how ridiculous it sounds. “You do know I’m straight, right?”

“You _are_ planning an elaborate scheme to seduce another man, though.”

“You know it isn’t like that.”

Meliorn hums. “If you say so.”

Jace narrows his eyes, but doesn’t say anything. He’s known Meliorn for years now and he hasn’t gotten any easier to read.

He’s a deeply cryptic person, but he does give good advice. He also makes a killer flower arrangement.

 

\--------------------

Later that day, at 7 pm sharp to be exact, Jace rings the doorbell to an apartment building in Brooklyn. He takes a step back and exhales. His breath turns into a wisp of smoke in front of him and slowly drifts up into the night sky.

He shivers.

What is taking so long? He’s been out here freezing his ass off for ages.

He scoffs. Figures that Clary’s new boyfriend is an inconsiderate ass who’d leave a guest out in the cold. At least that makes things easier for him to win Clary back.

Just as he’s about to press the button again, the door unlocks and he immediately hurries inside. Rubbing his cold arms, he makes his way upstairs.

“3b,” he mutters to himself, glancing at the apartment numbers on the first level. He sighs and continues up another flight of stairs.

When he finally gets to the right floor, Clary’s boyfriend is standing in the doorway, waiting.

Jace is breathless when he steps up onto the landing, but he’s not sure why. He’s fit, so he’s not winded by the stairs, and yet he is having to catch his breath as Clary’s boyfriend reaches out and shakes his hand. Weird.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey.”

They exchange smiles. The guy steps aside to let him in.

“Cool place,” Jace says as he kicks off his shoes. It really is a nice apartment. Clean and quite small but very charming.

“Thanks! I didn’t really decorate it myself though.”

Clary’s boyfriend leans against the wall and just watches as Jace shrugs off his jacket and hangs it up on a coat rack. He can feel the eyes on him and it’s slightly unnerving.

“Hey man, this is awkward but uh, I never caught your name,” Jace says then to take the focus off himself.

“Oh, sorry. I’m Simon.” The guy, Simon, stretches out a hand, and Jace shakes it.

“Jace.”

So. ‘Simon’. Just as bland a name as Jace would’ve expected.

“Okay, cool. So, where’s this Netflix account I’ve heard so much about?”

“Oh, um, my laptop’s in my room,” Simon says a bit sheepishly, and points into the apartment. He walks ahead of Jace and as they go through the tiny apartment, Jace can’t help but snoop a bit.

There seems to be two bedrooms, one of which must be Simon’s.

“Do you live with someone?” Jace asks. Then, faux casually, he adds, “A girlfriend?”

“Oh, no,” Simon says with a short laugh. “I live with my best friend Maureen.”

“So no girlfriend then?” Jace presses.

They’re in Simon’s bedroom now and Simon is closing the door. He’s facing away from Jace so there’s no way of reading his facial expression.

“Well I do have a girlfriend,” he says as he comes to sit down on the bed next to Jace. “But we don’t live together.”

He looks like he’s about to elaborate, but even just those few words sends Jace’s stomach into a whirlwind of uncomfort. He _knows_ they’re dating, that’s the whole reason he’s here, but somehow it doesn’t matter that he already knew about it. The very physical impact of having Simon confirm it to his face feels like a fresh wound all over again. He feels physically sick.

“So let’s get started,” Jace says abruptly. “With the show.”

“Right, of course, yeah!”

Simon scrambles to get his laptop and props it up on his lap. Jace scoots further up the bed and leans against the wall, his feet dangling off the side. Simon sits down next to him, his back to the wall, and navigates his way to the show.

“How much have you seen?”

“2 episodes,” Jace says, as it’s all he had time for between meeting Simon yesterday and coming to his apartment just now.

Simon queues up the third episode and they watch it together. It’s surprisingly pleasant. The show is suspenseful and enjoyable, with great music and stunning visuals. Jace finds himself genuinely liking it, even if it started out as a front to get closer to his enemy. The next surprise of the evening is that Simon actually gives some insightful commentary –– and a lot of trivia –– and his jokes aren’t half-bad either. A bit awkward maybe, but decent.

It’s… nice.

At one point, Jace finds himself just staring at Simon instead of at the screen. The room’s gotten quite dark at this point, with the bright screen of the laptop providing the only light. Simon’s face is sharply lit and there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, mouthing along to some of the lines being spoken on the screen in front of him.

Okay, so he’s funny, okay-looking and charming. Jace is begrudgingly starting to get why Clary likes him. That doesn’t mean he’s okay with it or that the plan is off. On the contrary, this just gives him more ammunition to break them up.

But he still has to catch himself sometimes, just staring at Simon’s profile and the curve of his lips. The same lips that have kissed Clary’s, who even knows how many times.

He wonders when they kissed last, and if Clary thinks Simon is a good kisser. He wonders if his or Simon’s technique is better. He wonders if he’ll ever find out.

Before he knows it, the episode is over. They’re still sitting side by side on the bed; Simon with his legs crossed, and Jace letting his long legs hang off the side of the bed.

There’s silence for a moment, and then Jace says, “Well, I’m off.”

He scoots off the bed.

“Oh okay. Cool,” Simon says.

Jace looks at him, and then turns to leave. Simon follows him into the hall.

He leans against the wall a bit away as Jace puts on his jacket. Jace can feel eyes boring into his neck and he knows he can’t avoid making eye contact forever, so he toes into his shoes and shoves his hands into his pockets.

“So,” he says, meeting Simon’s eye. The silence is awkward and Simon doesn’t look inclined to fill it, so Jace does. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Simon says, nodding. He gives a small wave and Jace waves back in an equally awkward fashion. Then he opens the door and leaves the apartment.

Just as the door swings shut behind him, he can hear Simon breathing a sigh of relief.

 

 

_Simon_

 

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Simon is lying in bed, a book abandoned over his stomach and his phone held inches from his face.

He and Jace have made plans to watch more of The Get Down together, just about a week since their first watch party. As they texted back and forth a few hours ago, Jace joked about needing another Netflix fix and Simon reciprocated by asking if Jace was inviting him to "Netflix and chill". The only reply he got was a winking emoji.

5 minutes to 7.

4 minutes to 7.

3 minutes to 7.

2 minutes to––

A sudden knock on the door startles him. It startles him enough to drop his phone, which lands painfully on his nose.

“What the fuck,” he groans and clutches his nose. He can feel the blood starting to run.

He quickly gets to his feet, pinching the bridge of his nose as he goes. Slightly tilting his head back, he walks slowly through the apartment. He’s about 10 steps from the door when the doorbell rings again, and he jumps.

“Oh c’mon,” he mutters under his breath and hurries to the door. He tugs it open. Jace’s fist is hovering in mid-air, supposedly about to knock on the now opened door.

“Hey,” he says, surprised. “What– what are you doing?”

Simon can’t really see him over the fingers squeezing his nose, but his educated guess is that Jace is somewhat unnerved to have a door open to reveal a person covered in blood.

“I, uh, I’m bleeding,” he says, as if that isn’t the vaguest, most unhelpful answer ever. “I– hold on.”

He leaves Jace to close the door and darts into the bathroom. He rips off a few pieces of toilet paper, rolls it up and sticks it into his nostrils. Finally he can level out his head without fear of dripping (more) blood down his front.

His previously white shirt is, indeed, stained red in more than one place. He sighs.

He pulls off his shirt and drops it in the laundry basket. Then he makes for the bedroom.

Jace is waiting outside the bathroom with a mildly worried expression.

“You okay?” he asks, and then his eyes go to Simon’s very much naked chest.

 _Right_ , Simon thinks. _This was dumb._

“I gotta, um, change,” he says. “I dropped my phone on my face and, well. Blood ensued.”

“I can see that,” Jace says, and runs his thumb over Simon’s jaw.

Simon’s brain kind of stops working. “S-sorry what?”

Jace pulls back, and just nods at Simon, his eyes still trained on Simon's jaw. “You’ve got blood on your face, man.”

“Oh,” Simon says, still a little dazed. Then the words sink in, and he gingerly touches his jaw and continues, “Oh! Right. Right, yes. I’ll go clean up and you can, uh, go get some wine? It’s in the cabinet to the right, no– left, it’s to the left. Right in there.” He stupidly points into the kitchen. “Right. Okay.”

Then he bolts to the bedroom. He puts on the first shirt he can find in his closet, which happens to be an oversized black t-shirt with BB-8 from Star Wars on.

Once he’s fully clothed again, he goes to the bathroom to wash off the blood. It only takes a few minutes but when he walks into the kitchen those few minutes later, Jace is sitting on a chair with a glass of wine in his hand and a casual air about him that seems to say he’s been here a thousand times before.

He looks up when Simon sits down on the chair on the opposite side of the kitchen table.

“How’d it go?” he asks.

“Good,” Simon says, because what else is there to say. “Do you, um, want anything to eat?”

“I had dinner at home,” Jace says. “But you can eat if you want.”

“No it’s fine,” Simon says, with a shrug. He gets up to get a glass of wine for himself. “I queued the episode by the way.”

“Awesome,” Jace says, and so they head to Simon’s bedroom.

Just like last week, Jace hops onto the bed and scoots up to the wall, dangling his feet off the bed.

Simon grabs his laptop and sits down next to him, putting a good distance between them for good measure.

\-----------------------

“Man, that was intense,” Jace says with a laugh. He stretches out his legs and arms like a cat, followed by a pleased grunt.

Simon is waiting for Jace to bolt immediately, like he did last time they hung out. But Jace doesn’t look prone to moving. He’s slumped back against the wall, his hands haphazardly on his stomach. For a few moments, Simon just watches Jace’s chest heave with each breath.

“You’ve got a balcony, yeah?” Jace asks.

Simon tears his eyes away and blinks guiltily. “Uh, yeah. Into the living room, next to the couch.”

Jace nods and scoots off the bed. He pats his pocket and sighs, then turns to Simon with an innocent smile. “You don’t smoke, do you?”

Simon shrugs. “Sometimes. Why?”

“I left my cigarettes at home,” Jace says.

He looks up at Simon through his very long eyelashes and honest to God flutters them in what is no doubt meant to be flirtatious. If not, it’s the most misleading gesture in the history of gestures and Simon should know because in high school he spent hours upon hours scouring the Internet and his local library for information about random gestures and their international meanings. It's just something he'd do when he was bored. There’s something so fascinating about how one gesture can mean wildly different things depending on the context and– Okay, yeah, he’s a bit of a nerd. Maybe that's why he was bullied in high school. Or maybe it was the weird month-long phase where he'd wear thick, badly applied eyeliner and only speak in whichever fictional language he felt like that week. Point being, despite not having a lot of first hand knowledge of being flirted with, he knows from research that batting one's eyelashes is a big sign.

“Oh, well you can have one of mine,” he says, and he’s so proud of himself for not stuttering. He slides off the bed and gets the pack and a lighter from his backpack.

They go out onto the tiny balcony attached to Simon’s apartment. Simon lights a cigarette and hands the pack to Jace.

Jace puts one between his lips and, instead of asking Simon for the lighter, he leans in close enough to touch the end of his cigarette to Simon’s lit end.

He sucks a few times until it's lit and then leans back against the railing. He lets out a puff of smoke that slowly melts into the cold night air.

Simon takes a drag of his own and closes his eyes for a moment. It’s nice, being here with Jace. It doesn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward, which is very unusual for any social interactions Simon is involved in. This, just standing on the balcony with Jace, feels easy and nice.

“You know,” Simon says after a while, very intentionally choosing this moment to tap off the ash at the end of his cigarette over the makeshift ashtray consisting of an empty can of beans, just so he has something to occupy his hands with. “My girlfriend has these photos of some ex around her place, and he looks a lot like you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s uncanny, actually. Do you have a twin or something?” Simon asks.

“Nope, no twin,” Jace says. He’s looking over Simon’s shoulder, at something in the distance. “Just a weird coincidence, I guess.”

“Huh.”

They stand in silence for a while, and then Jace pushes off the railing and crouches down to put out his cigarette.

When he straightens up to drop the butt in the can, he’s smiling.

“What?” Simon asks. His anxiety immediately has him worried it’s him Jace is laughing at.

“I don’t know,” Jace says, which doesn’t really ease Simon’s anxiety.

“Okay,” Simon says, frowning.

“Anyway, I have an important question,” Jace says, and crosses his arms over his chest.

Simon’s chest tightens. “O-okay.”

Jace looks him dead in the eye and just stares at him for a good 30 seconds before cracking a smile.

“Do you like chocolate chip cookies?”

 

\-----------------------

A few glasses of wine and many chocolate chip cookies later, midnight is coming ever closer. Jace is lying on his belly on Simon’s bed watching Marvel movies with Simon sitting next to him, his back against the wall and his feet tucked under Jace’s ribs.

“I don’t understand why you like this movie so much,” Jace says, munching on a cookie. “It’s just a bunch of dudes in costumes running around.”

“Hey!” Simon says, wiggling his toes underneath Jace and making him squirm. “I don’t come into _your_ house and insult _your_ favorite things.”

“I’m just being honest,” Jace protests. “And I made you cookies, didn’t I? What more can you ask for?”

“True,” Simon concedes, and grabs another cookie. They really are terrific.

He almost drops it when his phone starts buzzing. He reaches past Jace to pause the movie and snathces up his phone on the way.

“Oh man,” he sighs as he unlocks it and turns off the alarm. “I gotta go to sleep.”

“Yeah?”

“Well I’ve got work in the morning,” Simon says. He hesitates. “Are you staying over or...?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jace says, seemingly completely unaware of Simon’s highkey anxiety about asking that question. “I’m not that invested in the movie anyway.”

Simon narrows his eyes at him. “I’ll make sure you see it in its entirety at some point.”

Jace grins. “Well you can always try.”

With that, they get ready for bed. Simon finds a t-shirt for Jace to sleep in and when he attempts to get him some pyjama pants too, Jace stops him.

“I usually just sleep in my boxers,” he says.

Simon doesn’t reply. He just stares at Jace for a second and then hastily goes to make Maureen’s bed, where Jace will stay for the night. Maureen has been staying with her girlfriend Gretel a lot recently, which comes in handy on the rare occasion that Simon has a friend over. Which just so happens to only be relevant when it comes to Jace.

Speaking of Jace.

When he returns to his room, he finds Jace on the bed. Shirtless.

He has the t-shirt Simon gave him in his lap and he’s staring at his phone with a very intense focus in his eyes.

Simon’s presence alerts him and he looks up.

“I just texted my roommates to let them know I’m not coming home,” he says.

Simon can’t help but notice that Jace is _still shirtless_. He wants to tell him to just put on the goddamn shirt already.

“Who are your roommates?” he asks instead.

“My sister and best friend.”

“Sexy.”

“Isn’t it,” Jace says, with a grimace. “Anyway. I’ll let you go to sleep.”

He stands up and, yes, he’s still just holding the shirt. It has to be intentional at this point.

“I put a spare toothbrush in the bathroom and if there’s anything else you need…” Simon trails off.

“I’ll let you know,” Jace finishes. He smiles. “Thanks, Simon.”

He does a little salute with the shirt-holding hand and then he leaves the room.

Simon looks after him and then sits down on his bed with a heavy _thump_. He sighs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: this fic is based on the movie "Plan B" so there'll be similarities but also a lot of differences. Also, tags and possibly ratings will change as more chapters go up!
> 
> Sorry it took, like, a month to get the third chapter up. I'll try to get it up quicker next time lol.
> 
> Content warnings for this chapter:  
> \- drinking (will feature in later chapters as well)  
> \- some smoking and drinking  
> \- some cursing

_Jace_

 

“Iz, pick up, for the love of god, just pick u-– fuck.”

Jace impatiently shoves his phone into the pocket of his coat. He glances up at the apartment building he just exited. In one of the windows, he thinks he can see the outline of Simon.

He turns away and keeps walking down the street.

Izzy isn’t answering her phone and neither is his brother, or Meliorn.

He doesn’t really blame Alec, though. He’s on a six month long trip through Indonesia with his boyfriend Magnus, and besides the time difference, he’s probably got more important things to do than answer his phone. Like have sex with his very attractive boyfriend. His _objectively_ very attractive boyfriend.

Izzy and Meliorn, however, better have a very good excuse.

He huffs and quickens his pace. His apartment is a 15 minute walk away and he’s really not in the mood for the biting cold. The cold sits in his bones and the slight hangover from last night makes it hard to keep going, but he still does.

When he finally, finally gets home, the goddamn door is locked. Not only that, there’s a tie on the doorknob.

“Oh, come on,” Jace mutters to himself. He fishes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door, stepping inside very cautiously.

On more than one occasion he’s entered the apartment and been greeted with the view of his sister having sex in the living room or, he shivers thinking about it, in the kitchen.

No one seems to be getting laid right now, though.

“Hello?” he calls out. He drops his bag on the floor next to his shoes, and hangs up his coat. “Anyone home?”

He’s about to call out again when, just within eyesight, he catches a glimpse of bright blue hair tips sticking out from behind a door.

“Meliorn?” he says, eyebrows raised. “What are you––”

“Jace, I––” Meliorn begins, and then quickly ducks in behind the door again. Jace stands dumbfounded in the living room, staring at Meliorn’s half-closed bedroom door.

When Meliorn’s head reappears, he’s smiling apologetically. His cheeks are flushed and his hair tousled.

“Oh no,” Jace says as realization dawns on him. He takes a step backwards. “You’re having sex.”

“I did put out a tie,” Meliorn says, and there’s a raspiness to his voice that Jace has heard way too many times before. He does not want to know who else is on the other side of that door.

He backs away.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go. I’ll–– have you seen Izzy?”

Meliorn shakes his head. “She said she was going out with some friends.”

Jace sighs. “Okay. Okay, I’ll go. Text me when you’re… done, okay?”

He hurries out of the apartment.

\-----------------------

After an hour of aimlessly walking around in the freezing cold, Meliorn finally texts him.

Jace huffs and turns around to go home. When he’s climbing the stairs up to their floor, he passes a girl. She grins at him and proceeds down the stairs with a clear spring in her step.

Jace rolls his eyes.

When he enters the apartment, Meliorn is in the living room. He’s wearing a silky robe with floral and plant print. Based on the many years Jace has known him, he’s not wearing anything underneath it.

He smiles as Jace takes off his shoes and goes to join him in the living room.

“Enjoy your walk?”

“Fuck off,” Jace replies.

“Bad morning, I’ll take it,” Meliorn says, nodding. “Want some tea?”

“No thanks. Who's the girl?” Jace asks.

Meliorn shrugs. “We’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks. She’s nice.”

“Good for you,” Jace says, and even if he’s in a sour mood, he means it. It’s nice seeing Meliorn happy, especially since his last relationship was with a no-good hipster dude who treated him like shit. This girl seems like an upgrade, thankfully.

“Thank you,” Meliorn says. “So, tell me. What’s wrong?”

He gets up to turn on the kettle and Jace immediately takes his spot on the couch.

Meliorn flicks on the kettle and leans against the kitchen counter. His flowy robe, the hair bun with blue streaks peaking out here and there, and the kind dark eyes have a very calming effect on Jace.

He sighs.

“I was at Simon’s place,” he says, and sits down by the kitchen table.

“Who’s Simon?”

“Oh, he’s the guy Clary’s dating,” Jace says.

Meliorn immediately gives him _a look_.

“What?” Jace asks defensively.

“Nothing,” Meliorn says, but they both know he’s just stalling the passing of his judgment. “So you stayed at Simon’s. What about it?”

“Well, it was fun. Nice. We watched The Get Down and then some movies and I made cookies and––" He pauses, biting his lip. "He made me breakfast.”

“Okay,” Meliorn says slowly. “He made you breakfast."

Jace doesn’t provde any further information and instead just looks at him, waiting for his best friend to join in on his freak out.

Meliorn raises an eyebrow. “And…?”

“Well, it’s weird, isn’t it?” Jace says, a tad impatient with Meliorn’s lack of understanding. "I was just crashing there because it got late and I couldn’t bother going home, and then he made me–– I can’t remember what it’s called. They were these bread things, with cheese and… something in it. It sounded spanish, but I don’t––”

“Oh, maybe _arepas_ ,” Meliorn says, suddenly very excited. Then, seeing Jace’s disapproving facial expression, he resumes his serious appearance. “Okay, so he made _arepas_. What’s bad about that? It’s delicious.”

“It is! It was. But… it’s _weird_. It’s so personal.”

“Jace,” Meliorn says gently. “You didn’t sleep with the guy. It’s not like a one night stand where the other person suddenly gets too attached.”

“But it is!”

Meliorn frowns. “So you slept with him?”

Jace shucks a pencil at him. “Of course I didn’t! What’s wrong with you? But it’s–– it felt intimate, and strange. Like, I woke up and he was in the kitchen in this… pink apron, and he had made me breakfast. It wasn’t just simple stuff either. It was that, um, what was it?”

“ _Arepas_.”

“Yes, exactly, _arepas_. And there was like, fruit and fresh juice and all kinds of stuff. You don’t do that for just a friend staying over, right?”

“I’ve cooked more complicated things than that for my friends,” Meliorn says, shrugging.

“I don’t think we should model normal friend behavior off any of us,” Jace counters.

“Fair enough,” Meliorn concedes. “But wasn’t your whole plan to make him fall in love with you? Doesn’t this just mean your plan is working?”

Jace doesn’t answer right away.

“I guess,” he says finally.

It doesn’t ease his discomfort, though.

 

_Simon_

For the life of him, Simon couldn’t tell you how this happened. How the laws of the universe came together to allow this anomaly to concur. How against all odds, this was his lived reality. And even if he doesn’t understand it, here he is. In the middle of this alternate reality that has somehow replaced his usual, comfortable reality where nothing of great value ever happens.

Somehow, by some great mystery, what was supposed to be a one-time hang with a stranger turned into a weekly hang and, dare he say it, a budding friendship.

Every Thursday night, Jace comes over to watch another episode of The Get Down. Sometimes they have dinner, sometimes they have a few drinks, and sometimes Jace doesn’t leave until just shy of midnight. Sometimes he doesn’t even leave at all and instead stays the night. But mostly they talk. A lot.

But that isn’t really the strange part.

No, the strange part is that it’s _Jace_. Granted, Simon has only known him for a grand total of five weeks, but it didn’t even take him an hour into knowing Jace to figure out that they are in completely different leagues.

Jace is athletic and handsome, sarcastic and clever. There aren’t enough adjectives in Simon’s entire vocabulary to describe Jace, and that’s saying something since Simon is bilingual.

And he is choosing to spend time with Simon, who by no existing measuring system is anywhere close to being as handsome or athletic as Jace. It just doesn’t add up and it’s taking a greater and greater toll on Simon’s psyche trying to figure out why Jace wants to spend time with him.

There has to be another reason for Jace to keep coming over but he just can’t see it, and it’s driving him up the walls.

\-----------------------

“Dude, that ending…” Jace says, shaking his head. He takes another puff of his cigarette and inhales deeply. A wisp of smoke leaves his lips and drifts up into the air. He shakes his head again. “I really didn’t see it coming.”

“Yeah, it was really cool,” Simon says. He’s not smoking, but the way Jace’s lips wrap around the cigarette makes him wish he was.

“Anyway,” Jace says. He taps off some ash into the designated tin next to him.

Simon waits for him to continue, but he doesn’t, so they just stand in silence.

“Remember that guy I told you about?” Simon says suddenly. He didn’t _mean_ to say it, but it kind of… slipped out. It’s been on his mind for weeks now and quite frankly it’s a miracle he’s been able to keep it in this long.

“What guy?”

“My girlfriend’s ex, the guy who looks like you,” Simon clarifies. “In the photos.”

“Right, yeah,” Jace says. He’s suddenly very busy fiddling with his lighter. “What about him?”

“Well, uh, that’s why,” Simon says. “That’s why I was staring, you know, at the gym. When we met. I just thought I recognized you.”

“Okay...”

“I mean, I wasn’t being weird or anything. I just thought I recognized you.”

 _You already said that, Lewis,_  Simon thinks to himself.

“No, yeah, I figured,” Jace says, with a small grin.

“Okay. Cool.”

They stand in silence until Jace has finished his cigarette. Simon is leaning against the railing, looking out at Brooklyn.

Jace takes a final puff and then drops the butt into the tin.

“Wanna watch something?” he asks. “I’m even willing to watch one of your superhero movies.”

“Wow, really?” Simon says sarcastically. “What a beautiful gift.”

Jace playfully shoves him and turns to go back into the apartment. Simon follows and closes the door behind them.

“Want some popcorn?” he asks, already halfway to the kitchen.

“If by popcorn you mean wine, then yes.”

Simon rolls his eyes.

He pours them each a glass while he heats the popcorn. He leans against the counter, the sharp corners digging into his stomach, and stares into the microwave, waiting eagerly for the pops to start.

“Have you decided yet?” Jace shouts from the living room.

Simon thinks for a bit and then shouts back, “Decided what?”

Jace doesn’t answer and Simon is about to repeat himself when something brushes against him and makes him jump.

“What the––”

Jace has slipped past him and positioned himself next to Simon, resting his back against the same counter, but Simon’s kitchen is quite tiny and doesn’t have a lot of room, so he’s essentially cradled in between the sink and Simon.

He grins.

He goddamn  _grins_.

Simon is still clutching his chest with fright, which seems to amuse Jace even more.

“So what have you decided?” Jace asks gleefully.

“I–– what––” Simon pushes off the counter and puts what little distance between them he possibly can within the confines of the tiny kitchen area. “I don’t know! You pick something.”

There’s an evil glint in Jace’s eyes, and Simon’s eyes widen. “No, forget I said that, I don’t––”

“High School Musical it is!”

\-----------------------

Friday morning, Simon wakes up with a smile on his face.

Granted, it’s not that unusual for Simon to wake up smiling, because he tends to have a positive outlook on life. Well, when he’s not ridden with anxiety, that is. Add to that the fact that he’s a morning person, it really isn’t surprising to find him in a good mood early in the morning.

But today, the smile on his face is a different one.

He slowly emerges from the fog of sleep and rubs his eyes.

Yesterday had been… good.

Jace had come over as usual and they’d watched, yes, High School Musical. And Simon has always been an avowed hater of those movies but watching it with Jace somehow made it not only bearable, but really fun. Jace knew all the songs and a good portion of the dialogue, too, and he’d dramatically mime along to it. If someone had told him when he first met Jace that this boy was an avid HSM fan, then Simon would have laughed in their face.

Jace had spent the night again. He’d been assigned to Maureen’s room like last time, as she was staying at her girlfriend's again. Also like last time, Jace had insisted on sleeping shirtless which meant Simon had once again been battling the instinct to tell him to put on a goddamn shirt or at least have the decency to wear some pajama pants because Simon could see _everything_ and it was really, really hard not to stare.

Simon rolls over onto his stomach and reaches for his phone. Still sleepy, he scrolls down the long list of notifications. Too busy with Jace to check his phone much yesterday, he’s missed a _lot_.

Two texts from Clary, four calls from his mom, 15 notifications from various social media apps and two alarms that he slept through.

Oops.

He sits up and unlocks his phone. First, he texts his mom and promises to call her tonight.

Then he opens the text conversation with Clary.

_  
Good morning babe, any plans today?_

_Maureen’s back in town so we’re going out tonight, want to hang before?_

Yeah sure. When?

_Now? I’m meeting her at 2._

I’m with a friend. 11?

_Is it ok if I come over now? I’m already in Brooklyn lol_

Ok

  
Simon scrambles to his feet.

He probably breaks the world record in speed dressing as he throws on whatever he can find and rushes out of his room, sporting two odd socks and a backwards t-shirt.

“Jace?” he whispers, knocking on the door to Maureen’s room. He tries to be gentle but the harsh knocks reveal his true urgency.

“Mhmwaasup?” comes from inside the dark room.

Simon opens the door and a stream of light falls onto the bed. Simon’s breath catches in his throat.

Jace, the overconfident bastard, isn’t wearing the pajamas Simon (after much deliberation) lent him. Instead, Jace is just lazily sprawled on the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers.

Simon fights the urge to cover his eyes. Jace has a very obvious situation going on his boxers and Simon finds himself unable to make eye contact with it.

“You gotta, uh, go,” he says, his voice a bit too high.

Jace slowly sits up, leaning back on his elbows. He looks only slightly more awake now, like he could very well go back to sleep in an instant if he was allowed. “Sorry?”

“My girlfriend’s coming over,” Simon says, fidgeting.

Something seems to stir within Jace. He sits up. “Right, okay.” He looks stressed for a moment, before he schools his face into his usual laid back-ness. “Hand me my shirt?”

Simon all but throws it in his face and then watches Jace get dressed in silence.

“So are you getting lucky or…?” Jace asks, and there’s a grin on his face but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“What? No,” Simon splutters. “I mean, maybe… but no!”

He doesn’t know why the situation feels so painful, but it does.

He waits while Jace gathers his things and then ushers him into the hall. It feels like herding sheep. A single, tired sheep who almost stumbles on its own hooves.

“See you later then?” Jace asks when he’s finally dressed and ready to leave, with one hand on the door handle.

“Yeah, of course,” Simon says, nodding quickly. “Thursday like always.”

“Actually,” Jace says, and his hand slips from the door handle. “My roommates are having a party this weekend. Wanna come?”

Simon stares blankly at him. He’s not sure how long he’s silent, it’s probably not more than a second at most but it feels like an eternity. Then he hears himself saying yes.

“Awesome, I’ll text you the details,” Jace says, and smiles. There's a beat and then he leans in and pulls Simon into a hug. It’s very brief but for a moment, Jace’s charmingly slept-in and tousled hair is tickling his cheek and Jace's day-old cologne is wafting over him like in some movie. Simon takes a deep breath, subconsciously breathing him in, and then Jace leans back again.

He shoots him a crooked smile and then he leaves without another word.

Simon allows himself a moment to just stare blankly at the door and process what just happened.

Then he snaps himself out of it. Clary is coming over and he needs to clean up the mess from yesterday. He works his way from the living room to the kitchen to Maureen’s room where he changes the beddings and makes sure it looks the way she left it.

He’s just about to take a quick nap when the apartment door opens and Clary calls out, ”Hey Si!”

“Be there in a sec!” Simon calls back, and sighs. No nap, then.

He goes back into the hall and hugs Clary hello. She pecks him on the lips and asks, “Where’s your friend?”

“He had to leave,” Simon says. He looks down and grins. “Awesome dress, dude.”

She grins back and spins around, the bright yellow sundress flowing around her.

“Must be an awesome boyfriend who got that for you,” he says.

She laughs. “Oh yeah, the best.”

Simon makes them each a cup of _candil_ , a hot Colombian drink his mom used to make him as a kid, and then they curl up on the living room couch and watch Game of Thrones for the rest of the day.

Clary is the ideal person to watch TV with because she knows him better than anyone. When the Red Wedding episode comes up she immediately skips it without even having to look at him, and when he mouths along to 90% of the lines she just fondly rolls her eyes and lets him be.

She's not like Jace who laughs at him when he's doing the same when they watch The Get Down. Jace just teases him, nudging him every time he catches Simon silently mouthing along, much to Simon's embarrassment. Sometimes he'll joke that they don't even have to watch the show because Simon could just tell him all the lines and it'd be quicker.

He fakes a cough to hide the smile that forces it's way onto his lips as he recalls a moment from yesterday when he caught Jace staring at him as he mouthed along to a very emotionally intimate scene. He'd been so caught up in the show that he hadn't noticed it at first, but when he turned to make a comment about the scene, he found Jace staring at him with a sort of glazed over look in his eye. It was strange, but kind of nice.

"You alright?" Clary asks, squeezing his hand.

He coughs weakly and nods. "Yeah, it's nothing."

 

It's weird. Simon has had a crush on Clary for months now, which some would find strange since they hadn't exchanged a single word until a little over two months ago. He'd seen her around town a lot since they hung out in the same circles and often crossed paths, although not enough to warrant a conversation.

Simon had always thought she looked so pretty and that her laugh was so beautiful. When he finally plucked up the courage to ask her out and she actually said yes, he was ecstatic.

That feeling lasted about a month into the relationship. Now... he doesn't know anymore. She's just as beautiful and just as kind, but something feels off. Something doesn’t feel right and he can’t put his finger on it, but it’s there. Undoubtedly, firmly, there. He looks at Clary and something feels… wrong.

It’s making him very uneasy. So naturally he does the only thing he can think of; the only thing he’s actually good at.

He represses the hell out of it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: this fic is based on the movie "Plan B" so there'll be similarities but also a lot of differences. Also, tags and possibly ratings will change as more chapters go up!
> 
> I'm gonna stop saying I'll post the next chapter within x period of time because I never follow through lol. So please be patient, I've got more chapters coming, it just won't be very regular.
> 
> Content warnings for this chapter:  
> \- alcohol  
> \- cursing

Chapter 4

_Jace_

Saturday morning, Jace wakes up with a terrible ache in his chest. The ache wraps around his ribs and pulls, like a tiny string is attached to his bones and someone at the other end keeps yanking the string.

When he tells Izzy about it, she tells him it’s anxiety.

It’s unsettling. He can remember feeling like this a lot when he was a kid, but as he’s grown up it’s become a lot less frequent.

He spends the day getting their apartment ready for the party. While he cleans and vacuums everything, Meliorn just kind of floats around the apartment wearing one of his _many_ silk robes, making decorations and sprinkling glitter whenever he thinks Jace isn’t watching (“It’s too hard to clean up!” “There is literally no point in throwing a party that lacks glitter, Jace.”).

Meliorn has a fantastic ability to move around without anyone noticing. One second he’ll be on the couch folding sheets of paper into neat little flowers and the next he’ll be perched on top of the kitchen island making little noises at their cat Tiger. 

It’s almost past 3 PM when Jace finally finishes with the cleaning and can get some well-needed rest. He spreads out on the living room couch while Izzy and Meliorn chat over their respective crafts. He spends at least half an hour trying to nap before he gives up.

He slowly drags himself up the couch and, with a lot of effort, shove some pillows behind himself that he can rest against. 

“What’re you doing?” he asks, peering over at his friends.

Izzy looks over at him and holds up a… well. Jace isn’t entirely sure what it is but he has an uncomfortable feeling it’s supposed to be a swan.

“Looking good, Iz,” he says, giving a feeble thumbs up. Turning to Meliorn for some much needed salvation, he asks, “What about you?”

Meliorn doesn’t look up at first. It takes him a good minute before he acknowledges Jace in any way and when he does so, it’s with the word, “Soon.”

Jace shrugs to himself. That’s Meliorn for you. When he doesn’t want to talk, he just doesn’t.

It took Jace and Izzy years of knowing him to even get him to say that “soon” instead of just entirely shutting them out until he was ready to talk. Their deal was that he had to say something, even if it was something as simple as “no”, just to establish that he’d heard them. Then they knew to wait and that he’d come back with an answer sooner or later.

The first few years had been weird though, with well-meaning offers of lunch being left unanswered until an hour later when Meliorn would suddenly appear over one’s shoulder and say “I would love some lunch, thank you” and scare the shit out of you.

It’s why Jace loves Meliorn so much. He’s an acquired taste, certainly, but once you find yourself into his heart, you’re never getting out. He’s the fiercest friend Jace has ever had and there’s no one else he’d rather go to with his troubles.

But for once, not even Meliorn seems to be able to help him.

It does help a bit to just be around him, though. Jace doesn’t chime in on the conversation for the next hour and instead he just revels in being close to two of the people he loves most in this world. 

When 7 PM rolls around, he’s in a much better mood. All emotional conflict has been pushed out of his mind and instead he’s filled with a pleasant buzzing feeling. All his friends are coming over and it’ll be an incredible night. All he has to do is remember that.

In the kitchen there’s a big spread of snacks that Meliorn and Izzy prepared while Jace was cleaning. The snacks range from plain potato chips to cheesy nachos to bowls of candy to baklava. Jace almost got a spoon thrown at his head, courtesy of Izzy, when he tried to take the baklava out of the oven 15 minutes too early.

When he went to complain about it to Meliorn, his friend just shrugged and said “You don’t mess with a girl’s baklava.”

As the guests start trickling in around 7:30 PM, the three hosts steamroll right into party mode; offering snacks, taking people on small guided tours, and handing out beers to anyone who wants one.

Jace is in charge of the music. At least, that’s what he keeps telling everyone who asks why he’s sitting by himself in a corner. It is kind of true because he’s sitting next to the laptop playing the music so it’s easy to change songs whenever he wants to, but obviously that’s not really why he’s isolated himself. The dull ache in his chest is back so he’s allowing himself some alone time before getting back to socializing.

People are milling about the apartment now and a couple is sitting on the opposite side of the couch nursing a beer each. They’re holding hands and talking between themselves, seemingly unaware of the bustle around them. They look so happy. Jace wonders if that’s what Clary and Simon look like when they go to parties together; wrapped up in their own little bubble, with eyes only for each other.

Izzy plops down on the couch next to him and slings an arm around him, breaking him out of his sulk.

“You having fun yet?” she asks, a big smile adorning her face.

“Of course,” Jace replies. He looks around at the crowd that is starting to form. Every time they have a house party, he’s reminded of the fact that he knows a lot more people than he thinks. It’s slightly overwhelming.

Izzy must have seen something in his eyes that even he didn’t know was there, because she leans closer and says, “You know, I did invite Clary. But she’s sick, so she’s not coming.”

Jace looks at her, and then nods. “Give her my best, yeah? I assume you’ll be texting her all night.”

Izzy leans away from him with a grimace. “Ha ha.”

She punches him lightly on the shoulder, gets up and heads to the kitchen.

Jace sits by himself for another minute to collect himself.

Clary isn’t coming.

Even though his whole plan had been depending on this one thing –– Clary coming to the party and falling in love with him again ––  he’s experiencing a surprising lack of disappointment at the prospect of her not being there.

Instead he feels a timid excitement at getting to see Simon again.

 _This won’t do_ , he tells himself. _Time to get drunk._

 

\-----------------------

 

Jace is pleasantly intoxicated. He’s not _drunk_ , but he’s a bit past tipsy. It’s wonderful. He feels looser and more confident. Most people would say he doesn’t need another ounce of confidence, but those people usually don’t know him very well because that “confidence” is actually just feigned arrogance to hid his insecurity. At least that’s what his many therapists have told him through the years. Whatever. 

Weaving through the fairly large group that is crowded into the living room, Jace makes his way to the kitchen.

Izzy is leaning against a counter and chatting to a girl with dark curly hair and big gold earrings.

Jace’s face splits into a grin. “Maia!”

He brings her in for a hug, slightly blindsiding her for a moment before she realizes what’s happening and hugs him back.

The hug is heartfelt but quick. Maia draws back and slaps him on the shoulder. “I’ve missed you, you dick. Where have you been?”

Jace shrugs and crosses his arms over his chest, a small smile still playing on the corner of his mouth.

Izzy makes a quick excuse and slips between them out into the hall. Jace turns back to Maia.

“Been busy,” he says. “You still working at the Hunter’s Moon?”

“Yep, surprise, surprise. You haven’t been around in ages, though.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Been busy.”

Maia grins. “Yeah, you said that.”

Jace offers an apologetic smile. “I’ll do better, promise.”

“Well, I only saved your life. Guess you don’t owe me anything.”

She dons her trademark crooked grin as she challenges him. It makes his smile grow.

“Alright, I’ll make it up to you,” he promises. “Even if that barely counts as saving my life.”

“I pulled you off the street when you were about to be hit by a car. If that’s not saving your life then what is?”

Jace contemplates this for a moment and then says, “Alright. Fair enough. But I still––" 

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because suddenly Simon appears in the kitchen doorway. He’s got a bottle of wine in his hand and an anxious look on his face. When his gaze lands on Jace, he smiles.

His inhibitions lowered, Jace throws out his arms and calls out, “Hey! Welcome to the party, man!”

He pulls Simon into a tight hug, almost spilling out some of his beer in the process. For a moment he forgets that they’re not the kind of friends who hug –– heck, they’re not even supposed to be friends at all. Whatever. He can always blame the alcohol.

Simon awkwardly pats him on the back and then they pull apart.

“Izzy told me you were in here,” he says. “Also, I uh, I brought wine.” He holds up the bottle as evidence.

“Great,” Jace says, taking it from him. “We’ve got drinks and snacks, just help yourself.” He gestures to the array of snacks on the kitchen island.

When Simon doesn’t move, Jace just grins and hands him a beer. Simon smiles gratefully and takes a sip.

“Who’s this, then?” Maia asks, breaking the silence suddenly.

 _Oh right_ , Jace thinks. It’s easy to forget that other people exist when he and Simon are talking because... well, they always hang out alone.

He turns to look at her and then back to Simon, trying to figure out how to introduce his not-friend. Then an idea strikes him like lightning and his brain is too busy processing the alcohol to stop him from acting on it, so he’s left to his own devices. His own, stupid devices.

He throws an arm around Simon’s shoulders and squeezes him closer. “Simon’s my boyfriend.”

Simon’s body goes stiff. Jace feels a deep sense of satisfaction. His plan is going so well. He can just tell Simon is falling for it. Falling for _him_.

“Really?” Maia asks, cocking an eyebrow. She’s grinning. “You expect me to believe that?”

“What?” Jace asks, feigning surprise. “He is. Aren’t you?” He turns to Simon, who looks up at him with wide eyes.

“I–– uh––”

“Wow, romantic,” Maia says. Crossing her arms over her chest, she says, “Kiss him then. If you’re _really_ dating.”

That seems to get Simon’s attention, because his head snaps to look at Maia. He mouths something but no sound comes out.

“Fine by me,” Jace says, his eyes never leaving Simon’s. “Unless you don’t want to, of course.” There’s a hidden challenge in his voice. The sudden look of determination in Simon’s eyes tell him he picked up on it.

“No, of course I do,” Simon says sweetly.

 _Maybe he’ll actually do it,_ Jace thinks. Even his subconscious laughs at him. Of course he won’t.

The words have barely gone through his head when Simon leans in. The kiss is quick, and dry, and simple. A brief touch of lips. No big deal.

Jace blinks and then it’s over. Simon has leaned back. Jace isn’t sure when it happened but his arm has slipped off Simon’s shoulder.

“Oh come on, that was barely a peck,” Maia teases.

Jace forces a smile. “That’s all the show you’re getting, darling.”

She makes a face at him, but doesn’t press any further. Instead she turns to Simon and says, “I’m Maia, by the way. Since Jace doesn’t seem to remember.”

“Hey, I remember,” Jace mutters.

Simon grins and takes her hand. “I’m Simon.”

“So why haven’t I seen you around before?” Maia asks.

“Oh, well we haven’t known each other long,” Simon says. “We’ve just been friends for a few weeks.” He stops to think and then nods. “Yeah, a couple of weeks. Sorry, my memory’s not very good.”

His eyes crinkle a little at the corners when he smiles.

Jace chugs the rest of his beer.

\-----------------------

 

_Simon_

 

Simon is not a big guy. Sure, he goes to the gym, but he’s not very muscular or particularly tall. He didn’t start drinking until he was like 22, either. All of this amounts to an alcohol tolerance that is far from impressive.

He’s been at Jace’s apartment for a few hours now and he probably lost count of the drinks he consumed after the first hour. He’s almost sure it’s at least up to half a dozen at this point, ranging from beers to tequila shots.

He’s happy, though. He feels light and almost confident, which is a nice change.

He’s currently sitting on the floor of Jace’s room, sandwiched between Jace and Maia, in front of Jace’s bed with Jace’s shoulder to the wall and their backs against the bed frame. Around them is a bunch of other people, most of whom Simon don’t know the names of.

Music is drifting in from the living room where the makeshift dance floor is still in full swing. It’s muted enough by the half-closed door that you can still talk without having to shout.

“Alright, your turn,” Jace says and points to a guy on the other side of the small circle.

The guy thinks for a moment, looking around the circle with calculating eyes. Then he says, “Most likely to put out on the first date.”

Jace scrunches up his face. “Rephrase that, man.”

“Why?”

“It’s sexist,” Simon chimes in.

They high five without even looking at each other; like it’s second nature. Then Jace raises his eyebrows at the guy, who rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Most likely to have sex on the first date?”

Jace and Simon exchange smiles of victory. Then the guy counts down from 5 and everyone points at the person they deem most likely.

Simon notices that a lot of people point to Jace, who points to the guy who posed the question with a competitive look on his face.

No one points to Simon. It’s not surprising, both because no one really knows him and because even if they did, he still wouldn’t be anyone’s first choice here.

A few minutes later, the tables turn as every single person points to him after the prompt “most likely to watch all the Lord of The Rings in one sitting”.

Which, okay. Fair enough. He’s done that multiple times already, so he can’t really complain. It makes him a little happy because Jace was the one to pick that prompt and he’s smiling at Simon; this really big, happy smile where all his teeth are showing.

Time flies as they sit there going through various drinking games. They play Truth or Dare and Jace has to kiss Maia, while Simon has to give Jace a hug. Simon is vaguely aware that someone else had to hug him too but he’s too focused on filing away the memory of Jace’s arms around him to properly register anything else.

They also play a brief game of 7 Minutes in Heaven, although it only lasts for two rounds. The second couple to go into the closet got a bit carried away and as Jace pulled the door open at the 7 minute mark, they all caught several unfortunate glimpses of a pale, white ass that would forever be seared into their collective mind.

As the night progresses, people come and go. The games get sillier and sillier as everyone gets drunker. As it’s nearing 2 AM, the only people left in the bedroom is Jace, Simon and Maia. The rest have either left or continued the party in the the living room.

Jace is leaning heavily against Simon, a dopey smile on his face as he listens to Maia’s latest dating adventure.

Simon is absentmindedly carding his fingers through Jace’s silky hair. It’s something he’d never have the guts to do while sober, but with the alcohol flowing through his system, he feels calmer and less anxious. Jace doesn’t seem to mind, either. In fact, he keeps leaning back into Simon and pressing closer to his hand.

Everything feels warm and good. The party is still going outside their little bubble, although most people have left by now, and the distant pounding of the music is almost soothing.

Jace throws his head back in laughter, burying his face against Simon’s shoulder as his body convulses with laughter. Maia has tears streaming down her face as she finishes her story. She’s trying to calm herself down but keeps laughing despite herself.

Simon just watches them, enjoying the company and his buzz, a lazy smile on his face.

“Anyway,” Maia says, wiping the tears from her eyes. “God, that was a mess.” She chuckles and takes a sip of her beer. “What about you guys? Have any bad first dates lately?”

Jace grins, and slides his arm around Simon’s shoulder. “We’re dating, remember?”

“Oh please,” Maia says, waving him off. “No way you could land him. Look at him.” She leans forward and squeezes Simon’s cheeks. “He’s adorable _and_ funny. Way out of your league, Lightwood.” She leans back, giggling to herself and almost falling over before she’s able to steady herself by grabbing Jace’s leg.

“Did you forget that we kissed? What more proof could you want?” Jace huffs.

She rolls her eyes. “My grandma kisses more convincingly than that.”

Jace purses his lips. Simon can feel the arm around his shoulders tightening, pulling him slightly closer. He swallows.

“What do you say, babe?” Jace asks, leaning back slightly to look Simon in the eye.

He tries to answer, but all that comes out is a stuttering string of consonants.

“Let him be, Jace,” Maia says, and reaches out to pat Simon’s knee. “Poor guy is too drunk for your mind games.”

“Am not,” Simon says, the urgency to have Jace stay this close breaking through his intoxication. It’s kind of true, as well. He’s not sober by any standard but he’s definitely more clear-minded now than he was an hour ago.

Maia huffs out a laugh. “Well then, kiss your boyfriend, lover boy.”

“I don’t think I should,” Simon says uncertainly. He looks from Maia to Jace, and momentarily gets distracted by the way Jace’s tongue dips out to wet his lips.

“He’s a bit shy about PDA,” Jace teases, squeezing his shoulder.

“Nuh-uh,” Simon defends himself. “I just– well–” He clears his throat. “Well, I have a girlfriend. I mean, we’re not really exclusive I guess, but. Yeah.”

Maia leans back, shaking her head. “I told you, Jace. No way you could land this cutie.” She pats Simon’s knee again. “Anyway, it’s not a big deal.” She leans forward and presses a quick kiss to Simon’s mouth, “See? It’s just for fun.”

Simon blinks. “Well. If it’s just for fun.”

He can see Jace nodding out of the corner of his eye. He can _feel_ Jace’s eyes on him.

He knows this is bad. God, he _knows_ he shouldn’t do this while he’s not sober, but Jace keeps looking at him and he’s still on the far end of tipsy and God, he just wants to kiss him. So, so much.

“Well,” he says, with a forced chuckle. He’s pretty sure he should say something more substantial than that, but no words come to mind.

Jace hums in agreement. Before Simon has any chance to talk himself out of it, Jace has leaned in, his arm around Simon’s shoulder pulling him in closer.

It’s similar to their first kiss in that it’s quick and shallow; just a quick peck.

Maia snickers as they break apart, lazily leaning back against a pile of pillows. “Oh come on, you can do better than that.”

Simon opens his mouth to joke back but Jace has already gone in for another kiss. There’s immediately more urgency, Jace’s free hand cupping Simon’s cheek and guiding him into the kiss.

He knows he shouldn’t, but he kisses back. He doesn’t know how to stop, or why his body is screaming at him to get Jace closer, whatever it takes. Jace is already halfway on top of him, resting his entire body weight against Simon and pushing him back against the bed frame.

Sliding his hand onto Jace’s waist, he squeezes the soft flesh there, urging Jace to move closer. He’s almost straddling Simon’s thigh at this point, leaning over him and tilting his jaw up to meet his lips.

Simon can’t remember ever feeling like this with Clary; like his heart is standing still and pounding against his ribs at the same time, like time has stopped and raced simultaneously. It feels like sensory overload because everything is just too much, but still he can’t bring himself to stop.

Jace is so firm under his hands, grounding him and keeping him from completely losing himself against those unfairly soft lips. He tastes of cheap beer and Simon finds himself thinking that cheap beer has never been this hot. Jace grabs at his shirt and tugs, exposing a sliver of neck that his fingers immediately trail over, his nails grazing against the sensitive skin under Simon’s ear.

It’s Jace who finally pulls back, breathing heavily. Judging by glazed over look in his eyes, he doesn’t want to stop either.

Jace is still semi-straddling him, his hands gripping Simon’s shoulders to keep himself upright. He’s so, so close still, and Simon could just reach out and––

A loud snore interrupts his train of thought and prompts both of them to jump a little. Simon cranes his neck to look past Jace.

“She’s asleep,” he whispers, nodding towards Maia. Jace turns to look too and sure enough, she’s fallen asleep on her pile of pillows, her chin propped up against her open palm.

A softness crosses Jace’s face. He meets Simon’s gaze again and they exchange awkward smiles. Well, back to reality then.

He climbs off Simon’s lap and waves his hand in front of Maia’s face a few times to see if she’s really asleep.

“I should go,” Simon whispers as to not disturb Maia.

Jace shakes his head, still looking at Maia. “Nah, you can crash here. It’s too late to go home.”

Simon is secretly very happy about this but he feels like he shouldn’t be, so he decides to just nod and not say anything.

“Can you go check if anyone’s still here?” Jace asks, voice still quiet. He stands up and sweeps up Maia into his arms. “I’m gonna tuck her in.”

As Simon makes his way to the living room, he thinks about how astounding it is that Jace could lift Maia with such ease despite how drunk he is. Simon probably couldn’t lift her even if he was sober, due to how shaky he is.

And so what if he spends the short walk thinking about Jace picking him up like that and carrying him to his bed? Thoughts can’t hurt anyone.

\-----------------------

After Jace has convinced Simon to stay the night, the matter of sleeping arrangements come into play. Maia is already nestled into Jace’s bed, hugging a pillow to her chest and snoring lightly.

Simon is wearing a washed-out pair of sweats and a loose fitting t-shirt, both items borrowed from Jace. They smell like laundry detergent and Jace.

He’s sitting on the edge of Jace’s bed, nursing his third glass of water. His mind is starting to clear, which isn’t doing him any good since it just gives more agency to the thoughts currently roaming his head. 

The level of unseemliness varies, but the constant factor is Jace, who features in every variety of his thoughts. Either he’s lifting weights and showing off his abs, or he’s straddling Simon and grinding against him, or he’s carrying him in his arms and kissing him as he lays him down on a bed…

He downs the rest of his water.

“You and Maia can have the bed,” Jace says. “I’ll grab a sleeping bag or something.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Simon says immediately. “You take the bed.”

Jace raises an eyebrow. “Do you really want to argue with me right now? Because I’m more than happy to wrestle you if you do.”

Simon groans. “That’s not fair. You’d win even if I was sober.”

“Exactly,” Jace says, nodding. “So stop complaining and take the bed.”

The bed creaks as Maia slowly rolls over, her eyelids heavy as she glares at them. “You guys are so loud. Just c’mere.” She kicks her foot out at random until she manages to kick off the covers, then throws out her arm to gesture to the unoccupied side of the bed. Giving them no time to argue, she sighs a little and then rolls over again, quickly falling back asleep.

Simon makes a face and then climbs into bed next to Maia. It’s a queen size bed and a fairly large one at that. Not letting himself hesitate, he scoots into the middle of the bed and gives Jace a pointed look.

Jace hesitates for a moment, his eyes unreadable. Next to Simon, Maia is snoring peacefully. Jace’s eyes flicker between her and Simon. Finally he sighs and gets into bed, sandwiching Simon between himself and Maia.

“G’night,” Jace mumbles and turns around, facing away from Simon.

Simon stays still, staring at the back of Jace’s neck, and trying not to let his thoughts devour him as he thinks about running his hands through Jace’s hair again, or kissing him again, or even just seeing him smile again.

He sighs. He has a _girlfriend_. He shouldn’t be doing any of this. He shouldn’t be _feeling_ any of this. His and Clary’s deal so far has been that dating other people is fine as long as the two of them remain the priority in both their lives. And honestly, Simon hasn’t felt like he’s been prioritizing Clary for a while now. Given the choice to spend time with Clary or Jace, he’s pretty sure he’d pick Jace ten out of ten times. What does that mean for him and Clary and, even worse, what does that mean for him and Jace?

Taking a few minutes to breathe deeply and calm himself, he tells himself it’s just the alcohol talking. He tells himself he never felt any of this before tonight and therefore he won’t feel any of it after tonight either. It’s a one night thing. Sure, he and Clary might be in a slump right now but that doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with Jace.

Tomorrow, all of these feelings and desires will be gone and he’ll feel excited about seeing his girlfriend again. He won’t care if Jace wants to kiss him again or if Jace has any feelings for him. None of that will matter in the cold light of morning.

Calmed by this thought, he drifts off to sleep.

So you can imagine how crushing it is when he wakes up the next morning nestled in Jace’s arms, with Jace’s nose nuzzled against his neck and his breath dusting over his skin, warming Simon from the inside out.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

_Jace_

They don’t talk about what happened at the party. Jace doesn’t bring it up and Simon, thankfully, follows his lead and doesn’t talk about it either. They still hang out more or less all the time, even if it’s just to have pizza and watch TV together. Most of the time, they spend the night together as well.

Jace isn’t sure how it happened, but Simon has become one of the steadiest parts of his life. He can always count on Simon turning up on his doorstep on Thursdays with takeout and a big smile on his face. On top of their weekly movie night, there’s the spontaneous hangs.

Most of the time they’re at Simon’s place. It’s easier somehow. Probably because they’re away from Izzy’s pointed looks and Meliorn’s quiet judgment.

But this Thursday, he’s not seeing Simon. It’s not a step in his plan or anything. It’s just an unfortunate necessity and he has to force himself to cancel their plans. He knows deep down that if he prioritizes Simon over Clary, then he has to start thinking about the feelings that have been brewing over the last couple of months, and that’s something he’s avoiding at all costs.

Besides, Clary and him are having coffee after work. Her shift at the art gallery ends at 6 PM, so there’s no point in scheduling a hang out with Simon afterwards since their coffee dates tend to be quite long. ‘Date’ in this context is used very loosely, of course.

Simon doesn’t seem very disappointed when Jace texts to cancel their plans, but then again it’s quite hard to tell through texts. There’s no discernable difference in his texts; as always they consist mostly of emojis.

At 5:45 PM, Jace walks through the doors at the coffee shop where he and Clary are supposed to meet. He orders for both of them, because of course he still knows her order.

He smiles when she walks through the door 15 minutes later, right on time as always.

He waves her over and she grins when she spots him. Her hair bounces off her shoulders as she walks over and slides into the booth opposite him.

“Hi,” she says, dropping her bag on the seat next to her.

“Hey.” He nudges her drink towards her and leans forward on his elbows, grinning flirtatiously. “I got your usual.”

She shakes her head, but she’s still smiling. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“What, in two weeks?”

She scrunches up her nose. “Yeah, yeah. So, what have you been up to?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” Jace says smoothly.

Clary rolls her eyes. “Anything else?”

Jace leans back in his seat. “Nothing special; work, trying to convince Meliorn to stop hogging all the bathroom space with all his plants. The usual.” He shrugs. “Had a party last weekend.”

Clary gives a politely interested nod. “Oh yeah, Izzy told me about it. Did you have fun?”

“Yeah, it was-–” He cuts himself off, the smile quickly fading from his face. Why the fuck did he bring up the party? His mind is suddenly flooded with images of Simon’s eyelashes fluttering after their last kiss, Simon sleeping in his bed, Simon smiling at him. He clears his throat. “It was cool. Meliorn went full mom friend again and tucked everyone into bed at the end of the night.”

Clary laughs. “Sounds about right.” She bites her lip. “What about you? Meet any cute girls?”

“Why?” Jace raises an eyebrow. “You jealous?”

She doesn’t dignify him with an answer.

“I only have eyes for one cute girl,” he says with a wink. He’s still as smooth as always, but there’s no real passion behind it today. He hopes she won’t notice.

She rolls her eyes again. “We broke up, remember? I just thought you should get yourself out there more.”

He hums.

“Speaking of boyfriends,” Clary says, and Jace stiffens. She’s smiling in an amused sort of way, like there’s a joke that Jace hasn’t been let in on yet. “Mine was at a party this weekend and had some fun, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh,” is all Jace says.

She shrugs. “I mean, it’s fine. We’re not really exclusive, you know? He was so cute when he told me, though. He seemed so guilty.” She laughs softly.

He makes a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat, not really meeting her eye. How much did Simon tell her? Did he share names, details… What if Clary knows everything and she’s just playing with him?

He coughs. “So. Izzy says you’ve been sick. Are you doing any better?”

“Can’t you tell?” she asks, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a coy smile. She laughs. “Izzy brought me soup and lots of tea last Sunday. She insisted on staying the night too because she thought I’d cough myself to death without supervision.” She rolls her eyes, but there’s a fondness to it.

Jace decides not to bring up the fact that Izzy’s excuse for being away last Sunday had been that she was seeing her booty call.

 

_Simon_

 

Simon taps his fingertips against his ribcage; quicker and quicker, then slower, then quicker, then slower again. If it’s a nervous tic or the musician in him, he can’t tell.

Jace is sprawled out on the couch next to him, earbuds in and his eyes closed. He claims to be listening to a podcast about sports, but Simon knows he’s actually listening to one about unlikely animal friends. It’s sweet that he still tries to pretend, even if Simon easily sees through it.

He nudges Jace in the side with his foot.

Jace pulls out his earbuds with a mildly annoyed grunt.

“I’m hungry,” Simon says.

“Make some food.”

“Too much effort.”

“Simon, it’s your kitchen. I can’t do this for you, you gotta do it on your own, buddy.”

Simon pouts. “Come with me.”

Jace rolls his eyes. “How did you even survive without me?” He takes out both earbuds and winds the cord around his phone. “Let’s go.”

He makes a point out of not helping out, which is just so Jace that Simon can only barely bring himself to be annoyed. Jace sits down by the kitchen table and watches expectantly as Simon drags himself to the kitchen, giving Jace sad looks as he stares blankly into cabinets and sighs dramatically.

He takes out a pack of noodles, turns it over in his hand, and puts it back with a sigh. He does the same thing with a carton of cereal, a pack of frozen hamburgers and an almost empty bag of carrots. After about 5 minutes of this, Jace lets out a deep groan and stands up.

“Fine, I’ll make you something,” he says, pushing Simon out of the way and reaching for a bag of flour from one of the cupboards.

Simon claps his hands in glee and takes Jace’s seat at the table.

Jace whips up a simple batch of waffles. Once Simon realizes what he’s doing, he lights up and jumps to his feet.

“Hang on!” he cries, and dashes towards one of the cupboards next to Jace. He slides onto his knees, like he’s in some action movie, and almost collides with Jace’s legs.

He starts rummaging through the cupboard, looking for-–

“Aha!” he calls triumphantly, and pulls out a waffle iron. He presents it to Jace with a big smile on his face.

“You’re not serious,” is all Jace says, looking between the waffle iron and Simon, who’s still on his knees.

He takes the iron in his hands and turns it over. “You are such a nerd.”

Simon stands up and brushes the dust off his knees. “You say that, but wait until you try it. I dare you to still think it’s nerdy when you’re munching on a waffle that looks like BB-8.”

Turns out, Jace can be judgmental even in the face of (in Simon’s opinion, entirely objective) adorableness, but he does eventually admit that it is kind of awesome.

They eat their waffles parallel to making new ones, with the waffle iron sitting on the table between them. Jace lifts the top of the iron and is just reaching for his fork to get the waffle out of the iron when Simon beats him to it.

He doesn’t even bother to put anything on it but instead just shoves it in his mouth before Jace even has the chance to object.

Simon grins around the waffle as Jace gapes at him indignantly.

“That was mine!”

“I’m hungry, okay?” Simon defends himself, trying his best to speak and chew at the same time.

Jace cocks an eyebrow. “Wow, Lewis. I can’t believe you’d sink this low.”

“I’d say I’m sorry but I’m really not,” Simon says, licking his lips. “Didn’t you forget something?” he adds, glancing pointedly at the empty iron.

Jace narrows his eyes. “Are you really trying to shame me for not pouring the mixture in when you literally just stole my waffle?”

Simon shrugs. “It appears so.” He bites his lip. He knows he’s pushing it, but if Jace can be an ass to him, all in good fun, why can’t he do the same back? Although granted, Jace has never taken his food. But whatever. A few days ago he teased Simon for his fondness of his monthly sock organizing, so Jace totally had it coming.

Jace dips the measuring cup into the waffle batter and pours it into the iron, then closes it. Then, before Simon has time to react, he picks up his fork and flicks a bit of the batter onto Simon. It lands on his cheek and dribbles down onto the front of his shirt.

He jumps out of his chair, howling in what can only be described as an enormous overreaction.

Jace stifles his laughter with his fist.

Simon looks down at the splatter on his shirt, his mouth open in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

Jace shrugs. “Never try to outdo me in assholery. You’ll never win.”

“Oh yeah?”

For once in his life Simon doesn’t overthink the situation and just goes on pure instinct, which means that he picks up the glass of juice he’s been drinking and hurls at least a third of its contents on Jace.

The second the liquid splatters against Jace’s face, Simon realizes what the hell he’s doing, and gives out a choked squeal in horror.

He bursts out in a string of rambling sentences that range from apologetic to self-deprecating to plainly horrified.

At first, Jace remains in his seat as if frozen by shock, but when Simon starts rambling about how he’s stupid and terrible, he cracks a smile and gets to his feet.

He looks ridiculous like this, covered in juice and still smiling bright as ever.

“Simon, relax. It’s just juice, don’t worry.”

Simon stares at the previously white shirt that is now a dark shade of yellow and cringes. “I’ll wash it for you, okay? I’ll–”

Jace sighs and takes a step forward, shaking Simon’s shoulder gently. “It’s not that big of a deal, honestly. I had it coming.”

Simon bites his lip, his eyes still fixated on the stains that are forming. In the back of his mind he registers that he is essentially just staring at Jace’s chest right now, but he ignores it.

Jace laughs and pulls Simon into a one armed hug.

“You’re too nice to be an asshole,” he says. Pointing to the waffle batter on Simon’s shirt, he adds, “And I think you need a change of clothes too.”

Simon pouts. “Are you sure it’s okay?” he asks, indicating the juice, which has also dripped onto the floor and splashed onto the waffle iron.

Jace just waves him off. “I’m just glad you’re finally letting loose. You should throw juice more often. Isn’t it fun?”

Simon considers it for a moment. “Mostly terrifying,” he decides, to which Jace rolls his eyes.

“Okay, I’ll get us some clean clothes,” he says. “You should take the next waffle in the meantime or you’ll just throw more stuff at me.”

Simon opens his mouth to apologize again because, okay, he does feel bad even if Jace has told him not to, and apologizing is like second nature to him. He doesn’t get the words out before Jace interrupts him and tells him to eat the waffle and shut up.

Then he waltzes out of the kitchen, whistling to himself on the way to Simon’s bedroom, while Simon is left alone in the kitchen with the waffles.

While he waits, he eats the waffle, prepares the next one and then cleans up the rest of the juice.

When Jace comes back, he’s essentially naked save for his boxers. Simon has to force himself to look away as Jace hands him a t-shirt.

“It got on my jeans too,” Jace says as way of explaining, although it doesn’t quite explain why he wouldn’t just put on new pants in private instead of showing off his body to poor Simon who really did not sign up for this when he invited Jace over this morning. Before Simon has time to reflexively apologize, Jace continues, “And don’t say you’re sorry because there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

So he says nothing, and they sit back down to wait for the next waffle.

Simon tugs the sticky shirt over his head and picks up the shirt he was handed by Jace. It’s a dark grey t-shirt with a clearly homemade print of a photo from The Get Down.

He recognizes it at once, but it’s not one of his own shirts. He looks up at Jace who grins at him.

“Uh-oh, busted,” Simon jokes. At least he tries to pass it off as a joke. Truth is that it’s a shirt that Jace accidentally left at Simon’s a while ago and Simon couldn’t bring himself to return it, so he just kind of kept it. After a few weeks had passed it felt more embarrassing to return it than to keep it, so he just kind of… didn’t give it back. Now that’s come to bite him in the ass, though.

“It’s just a really great shirt, sorry,” Simon says sheepishly. He hands it to Jace, who shakes his head.

“Keep it. It suits you better anyway.” He honest to God winks before he breaks eye contact as he puts on a shirt that he undoubtedly stole from Simon’s closet. He points to the plain, white t-shirt. “I’ll keep this one as collateral, though.”

Simon rolls his eyes fondly. “Whatever dude.” The awkwardness and guilt he felt before has begun to melt away at last. “I still can’t believe you made your own merch. You’re even nerdier than me.”

“Don’t get carried away now,” Jace teases. “At least I don’t own a BB-8 waffle iron.”

“But you wish you did,” Simon quips, and goes back to admiring the t-shirt. It’s well-worn, with loose threads here and there, as well as a few very ragged seams. He pulls it over his head and has to fight the urge to hold the fabric up to his nose and smell it.

It’s not the first time he’s wondered if Jace wears any kind of cologne or if he just smells this great by nature. It would be deeply unfair if it’s just his genetics, because damn.

They eat the rest of their waffles in more or less comfortable silence. Jace jokes about the amount of whipped cream Simon consumes per waffle (which is a totally appropriate amount, if you ask Simon) and then they fall back into silence.

When they’re done, Simon leans back in his chair and groans, patting his belly. “Man, that was delicious.”

Jace hums in agreement. He gets up to clear the table, appropriately dressed by this point. As Jace starts doing the dishes, Simon wipes down the table and countertops. When he’s done, he hangs back, leaning casually against the counter next to the sink.

He watches Jace’s hands work for a few minutes, cupping water into his soapy hands and spraying the liquid off the cleaned plates.

“Hey, by the way,” Simon says after a while. “Remember that guy my girlfriend used to date, the guy who looks like you?”

He’s not sure if he imagines it or not, but he thinks he can see a little tension settling into Jace’s shoulders. He doesn’t say anything, but nods to indicate that he’s listening.

“Well, she took down all the photos of him,” he continues. “One day they were just gone. Weird, right?”

Jace turns to him, eyebrows furrowed. “Really? All of them?”

“Yeah. I asked her about them but she wouldn’t say. I think they’re still friends too, so I don’t know what made her––”

“Have you told her about me?” Jace asks, curiosity staining his voice. He immediately clears his throat and puts on a smile that Simon easily sees through. “I mean, that you have a friend who looks like her ex?”

“Um. No. No, I haven’t.” He hesitates. “I don’t know, I… I want my girlfriend and my friends to be separate, you know? It’s like two different worlds.” He looks away from Jace’s gaze. “Things have been so good with us and I don’t want to ruin it. You don’t wanna share your friend, you know?”

He looks up just as Jace looks away, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah. I get it.”

\-----------------------

6 hours later, Jace is still there; curled up on Simon’s bed, lazily watching reruns of Friends on Simon’s shitty TV while its owner strums on a guitar on the other side of the bed.

Simon can feel his eyelids starting to droop and he almost falls asleep a few times, guitar in hand, but catches himself right on the brink. He clears his throat and goes to put away his guitar.

Jace looks over at him as the bed dips when he sits back down.

“Getting ready for bed?” he asks.

Simon shrugs. “Yeah, sorry. Are you staying over?”

“In your bed?” Jace asks with a playful wink.

Simon shifts a little. “Don’t laugh just yet. Maureen’s friend is staying over so the couch is taken.”

Jace grins from ear to ear, teasingly nudging his thigh with his foot several times. He singsongs, “Aw, you want to be close to me.”

Simon ducks his head, a rosey hue dusting his cheeks. “It’s not like that.”

“Mmm, sure,” Jace says with a light laugh. Then he scoots over so his feet are dangling off the edge of the bed too, and pats Simon’s knee. “It’s cool, dude. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Simon shakes his head, eyebrows knitting together. “No, no, I’ll do it. I don’t mind that it’s hard.”

When Jace opens his mouth, undoubtedly to say something dirty judging by the smirk on his face, Simon cuts him off with a quick, “Don’t.”

“But seriously though,” he continues, “You take the bed.”

“Dude––”

“It’s fine, I promise.”

Jace bites his lip. “Or we could just share. I mean, we did at the party.”

Simon tries not to let himself be swept away by the wave of memories from that night. This is the first time either of them have mentioned it. “We were really drunk, though.”

“Well, it’s up to you,” Jace says with a shrug. “It’s fine with me.”

Simon considers it for a moment. A slow grin spreads over his face. “Now who wants to be close?”

\-----------------------

It’s just one of the many weird habits they’ve taken to since he and Jace became friends.

After that night they always share a bed when one of them is staying over, even when the living room couch or Maureen’s bed is free.

They always fall asleep on separate sides of the bed, not facing each other. That first night Jace joked that it’s guy code to not make eye contact if you’re forced to share a bed with another guy. They still sort of keep to the code, even if neither of them seems to really believe in it. Simon sure doesn’t. He thinks it stems from homophobic masculinity ideals. But whatever.

Some mornings, when they’re at Simon’s place, he wakes up to an empty bed. There’ll be a text waiting for him with some bland excuse, like “went to the gym” or “my sister needed me”.

On other mornings, they wake up in each other’s arms. Sometimes Simon wakes up to Jace reaching out for him and wrapping himself around him, hooking his leg behind Simon’s knee and trapping him in his embrace; other times he wakes up with his face nuzzled into the spot where Jace’s jaw meets his neck, his gentle breathing ruffling Simon’s hair. He particularly likes those mornings.

It’s a delicate line to walk, though. The second they’re both awake, they immediately disentangle themselves and try to laugh it off. They almost take turns making the joke now since it happens so often. Sometimes Simon tries to channel whatever he imagines Jace is feeling –– uncomfort, annoyance, maybe even horror –– as if to put him to ease by showing him he doesn’t understand it either.

But while it may be uncomfortable sometimes when they have to face each other in the cold light of the morning, there’s still a voice deep inside Simon that keeps insisting that he’s never felt as good as he does when he’s with Jace.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

_  
Jace _

 

They’re hanging out at Jace’s place for once. Izzy is out on a girl’s night with Clary and Meliorn is out on a date. They have the place to themselves.

Not that Jace planned it that way or anything.

Simon is currently making his way through Jace’s Netflix account, supposedly to find something for them to watch, but Jace has a feeling he’s really trying to find something embarrassing on his “Continue watching” list. It's not really Jace's account anyway; it's his brother's that Jace sometimes borrows. At least that's what he tells Simon.

“Find anything?” Jace asks as at least half an hour has passed. He’s getting a little impatient because with Simon so distracted, all his mind has to occupy itself with is staring at Simon as he’s crouched over the laptop, his mouth twitching every now and then as he sees something amusing on the screen. It’s making Jace feel things he doesn’t want to be feeling.

Simon looks up from his laptop, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh certainly.”

Jace rolls his eyes and gets up from where he’s been quarantined during Simon’s search. He sits down next to Simon on his bed, leaning back on his elbows. “What’s the verdict?”

“You watch The Great British Bake Off.”

Jace narrows his eyes. “Simon…”

Simon crosses his arms over his chest, a forced frown on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me? All this time, we could’ve been watching it together. It's one of my favorite shows!” He quickly drops the facade and claps his hands together in glee, ideas flooding his mind and making his excitement seemingly impossible to contain. “We can bake along with them! I heard they’re doing croissants this week, do you––”

“Just because I like to  _ watch _ it doesn’t mean I want to  _ live  _ it. Besides, if anyone knew that I watched it, my whole image would be ruined. It’s not exactly a cool show.”

“Are you saying this is your deepest, darkest secret? That you like a British baking show?”

Jace grins. “Definitely. And I'm entrusting this secret to you, so don’t tell anyone.”

“Alright, alright. Compromise,” Simon says, holding up his index finger. “We watch it together, I don’t tell anyone about your little secret,  _ and _ I bring the weekly themed snacks.” Jace makes an exaggerated thinking face and Simon rolls his eyes. “Come on, you can’t say no to quality Simon time  _ and _ provided snacks. You just can’t.”

Jace smiles. “I guess I can’t.”

 

\-----------------------

 

That night they binge the first 4 episodes of the current season even though Jace has already seen them all. He doesn’t mind it though because he spends more time watching Simon than he does the show.

Simon…. gets very invested in these things. He’s literally on the edge of his seat as people are being eliminated and he actually shed a few tears when his favorite accidentally dropped one of her creations on the floor.

It’s adorable how he scrunches up his nose or bites his lip when elimination time approaches, or how he’s flapping his hands when his favorite gets Star Baker.

Simon is one of the best people Jace has ever met. He’s so easy to be around and he really gets Jace in a way that not a lot of people do. He doesn’t get turned off by Jace’s prickly exterior. In fact, Jace is pretty sure that since he’s known Simon he’s been more in touch with his feelings, he’s felt a lot happier and the protective ice around his heart has even started to thaw a little bit.

It’s like every time they hang out, Jace feels a little safer, a little happier, a little more at home. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, he knows that. Simon was supposed to fall for him, not the other way around, and Jace was only supposed to be Simon’s friend to find out how to pry him away from Clary. But it evolved from that into something so much bigger and honestly? It’s hard to feel too upset about it.

He can’t remember ever feeling like this with a friend. Not even with Clary whom he’s always thought of as something of a soulmate. Things were always a bit on the dramatic side with her. They just always managed to bring out that side in each other which meant that lots of fighting followed by make-up sex was routine for them.

It’s not like that with Simon. Sure, they have their moments where things get a little heated and they argue, but there isn’t a constant tension between them. While he had often been nervous about seeing Clary after a fight, he doesn’t feel like that with Simon either. He and Clary often brought up the same old fights, like, a year after it had initially occurred, but Simon would rather hash it out immediately and then move on.

It’s a healthy way of dealing with conflict that Jace has never experienced before and he’s pretty sure it’s made him a more peaceful person compared to the Jace who used to always carry his anger right below the surface. Not that he’s entirely let that go, of course. He’s still a fairly bitter person and he still struggles with his temper. But still, he can’t help but think that knowing Simon has made him a better person.

Despite how this whole thing started, Jace truly considers Simon one of his closest friends, if not  _ the _ closest. But he still can’t shake the feeling that no one –– friends or past partners included –– has made him feel like Simon makes him feel. And he can’t even begin to unpack what that makes Simon to him.

He’s deep in his thoughts when Simon nudges him, a bit on the rough side which probably means he’s been trying to get his attention for a while.

“Hey, Earth to Jace? You there?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jace hurries, straightening up. The episode is over and Simon is stretching his back like a big cat. A sliver of skin is exposed as his shirt rides up, sending a small tremor through Jace.

“I’m gonna brush my teeth,” Simon says, getting to his feet. “Want me to grab your toothbrush for you?”

Jace blinks up at him. For a moment he forgets that Simon has long since stashed a toothbrush in Jace’s bathroom for future sleepovers. His heart swells a little in his chest.

“Uh, no. That’s– that’s fine.” He watches Simon head off to the bathroom.

There’s a thought blooming in his chest; a little flower growing from a seed that was planted long ago.

Maybe he and Simon aren’t “just friends”.

Maybe this scheme to get Clary back has turned into something he never expected.

Maybe Meliorn was right after all and this story ends with Jace’s gentle, poorly guarded heart being crushed.

And maybe, just maybe, Clary isn’t the one he’s in love with.

  
  


_ Simon _

  
  


Simon is pacing his apartment, trying to balance a book on his head. His tongue is sticking out as he’s trying to focus on the book not falling off.

In his earbuds, Maureen is talking to him about Los Angeles and how much fun her and Gretel are having. Gretel, her girlfriend, treated her to a week in L.A. and this is the first time since they left that Simon and Maureen have spoken. There’s a lot to catch up on.

“Okay Si, you’re clearly not listening,” Maureen says with a sigh. She doesn’t seem too annoyed though, which is truly a testament of her enormous patience with her roommate.

“What? Yes I am,” Simon says, although his heart clearly isn’t in it.

“You couldn’t even recount what I’ve been saying if your life depended on it,” Maureen says and, well, she’s not wrong.

“I’m sorry,” Simon says with a groan. “I’m being a shitty friend. I’m really sorry. There’s just… a lot on my mind.”

“Spill,” Maureen says and it’s more of a demand than a request.

“I don’t want to burden you with it,” Simon says. The book is still balancing on his head but he’s stopped pacing now. “You should be having fun with your girlfriend and not listening to me whine about-–”

“The faster you tell me what the hell is going on, the faster I can get back to having fun with my girlfriend,” Maureen tells him.

She’s always been a bit too good at persuading him.

“Well...” he says, the universal sign that tea is about to be spilled. “There’s this guy, right, I think you’ve met him––”

“Jace?” Maureen says without missing a beat.

Simon sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s the one. Well, we’ve been hanging out for the past couple of months and it’s been really great, but… There’s a conflict of interest.”

“Would you care to elaborate?”

“The conflict is that I don’t think I’m in love with my girlfriend anymore and the conflicting interest is Jace. As it turns out, I’m  _ very _ interested in him.”

He bites his lip as he waits for Maureen to respond. He expects surprise, maybe horror, but definitely not––

A deep sigh. “Yeah, I saw that coming. Gretel and I were actually going to bet on when you guys would get together. She didn’t think it would happen but she’s just too cynical to see the potential.”

“Maureen!” Simon exclaims, fairly certain his face is turning the shade of a tomato. “You  _ knew _ ?”

“I had no idea you were trying to hide it,” she says. “Honestly, I was kind of starting to think that you were dating on the downlow and you just didn’t want to tell me.”

“ _ What? _ Why would you– oh my god. We’re just friends, I wouldn’t– I have a girlfriend!” The last few words are choked out around the ball of anxiety in his throat.

“You literally just said you’re interested in him and not Clary. Look Si, it’s fine. I’m sure he likes you back. If I know anything about boys––”

“You’re a lesbian, but okay.”

“No boy hangs around  _ that _ much without being up for at least a hookup,” Maureen finishes, not dignifying him with an answer.

“That’s–– that’s––” He cuts himself off. Then, softly, he says, “I was starting to think he liked me too. But he was really weird last night, M. I was going to stay over and I was basically already in my PJs when he did a 360 and said I should go home.”

“Really? Did he say why?”

“That’s the weird part! He didn’t even have a good excuse. He just said he’s tired and that he’s got work in the morning, but that’s never stopped him before. He usually stays up with me past midnight even when he has to get up early, but yesterday he was acting really weird and I’ve been freaking out all day because what if he’s figured out that I like him? What if he’s just super grossed out that the guy he thought was straight is crushing on him?”

“Si, take a deep breath, okay? Just breathe and calm down. I love you but you’re thinking about this way too much. Just talk to him about it. I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding. Maybe he got freaked out by how much he wants to bone you.”

“Oh my god,” Simon says. He tries to run his hand through his hair and ends up knocking the book off his head instead. It hits the floor with a loud noise. He flinches and curses everything he can think of. “Godfuckingdamnitsonofa––”

There’s another noise, a little duller this time but very similar. He turns around and stares at the book which, unsurprisingly, has remained right where he dropped it. He frowns. What the–

There’s another dull sound, but this time in rapid succession. He tugs out one of the earbuds and listens hard.

It takes him longer than he’d like to admit before he realizes that someone’s knocking on the door.

He curses under his breath and goes to see who it is. He almost bites his tongue when he peers through the hole and sees Jace.

“Fuck, Maureen, it’s him,” he whispers, leaning away from the door just in case Jace can hear him. “I gotta go, okay? I’m sorry, we’ll talk about L.A. stuff later.”

“Go get him, babe!” Maureen calls out just as he disconnects.

He pockets his phone and earbuds, and makes a feeble attempt at smoothing down his rumpled t-shirt. It’s at least three days old and not the kind of clothes he wants Jace to see him in now that he’s, you know, officially  _ into _ him.

Sweating slightly, he opens the door with a nervous smile. “Hey!” His pitch is way too high and he cringes.

“Hey,” Jace echoes. There’s a strained smile on his lips too. He looks even weirder today than he did yesterday.

“What’s up?” Simon asks, frowning slightly and leaning against the door frame in an attempt to appear casual. It does not work.

“Not much,” Jace says, shrugging. His words doesn’t match the weird vibe he’s giving off though.

“Okay,” Simon says hesitantly. “So why are you––”

“I’m sorry if I was weird yesterday,” Jace blurts out. It’s like he’s been practicing a speech and once he’s started, he can’t get himself to stop. The rest comes out in a rush. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Everything happened so suddenly. It’s been great hanging out with you and getting to know you and everything. I don’t know why I didn’t just tell you that last night but I panicked and… yeah. So I’m telling you now instead.” He takes a shaky breath. “I love you, man. I love you and I want you all to myself. I know you have a girlfriend and maybe that’s selfish but I don’t care anymore.”

He stops talking so abruptly that Simon assumes that it’s just a break in his speech to, like, breathe. But the next part never comes.

Instead Jace takes half a step forward and leans into Simon’s personal space. He places a quick kiss on Simon’s cheek and then he pulls back. He barely makes eye contact with Simon before he turns around and bolts.

Simon is left standing on the threshold for minutes, if not hours. Okay, it’s definitely not more than like 5 minutes but with how many thoughts are racing through his head, it feels like it should be hours.

He gingerly touches the spot where Jace kissed him. It’s like he can feel the traces of Jace’s lips under his fingertips.

Despite himself, he smiles.  
  


\-----------------------

 

He calls up Maureen the next day when everything has settled in.

Who is he kidding? Nothing has settled in anywhere. He’s still just as confused and above all else, scared.

He tells her about the short but important conversation with Jace, about the love confession, about the kiss. He tells her about how his heart beats a million times faster every time he thinks about those short minutes.

She tells him to dump Clary and tell Jace he loves him too.

He tells her he already broke up with her an hour ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute since I last posted and I'm SORRY. I'm gonna try to get the next chapter out soon and while I always say that, I'll try to keep it this time! This fic is coming closer to the end but there's still a couple of chapters left, don't worry.
> 
> I really appreciate all the comments, kudos and especially the patience with my super inconsistent updates. I hope you liked this chapter! xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing this fic for over a year now, I can't believe it! I'm not gonna promise a quick update because I never keep that promise lol but I'll do my best to get this finished as soon as I can. Thanks to everyone who still reads and likes this fic, I appreciate it so much <3

Chapter 7

_Jace_

  
Telling someone that you love them is terrifying. Especially when that someone is dating your ex-girlfriend. Want to add another layer of horror? Imagine that you previously hatched a scheme to get the guy to fall in love with you so he would break up with your ex-girlfriend and thereby allow you to date her again... except you fell in love with him instead. Even worse? The guy you’re now in love with hasn’t talked to you since you told him, which was a whopping three days ago.

How did his life get this fucked up? He’d never admit it, but maybe he should start listening to Meliorn. If he’d listened to his advice from the beginning, he would never have gotten himself into this mess.

He also wouldn’t have met and fallen for Simon, which honestly seems like too high a price to pay, even if loving Simon means he has to suffer like this.

He wrings his hands, glancing nervously at the clock on the wall.

Clary called out of the blue a few hours ago and told him to meet her at their favorite coffee shop. At first he thought it was just to catch up again but now he’s worried that it has something to do with Simon.

Maybe he told her about Jace’s love confession and she pieced it all together. Maybe she told Simon and now they both hate him. His stomach knots painfully at the mere thought of Simon hating him. Simon is so full of light and positivity that it’s hard to imagine him hating anything. Well, anything other than people who claim the Star Wars prequels are better than the original trilogy.

Every time the bell above the door rings, he almost breaks his neck whipping his head to see if it’s Clary. After about 15 minutes of this torment, and a very sore neck, she finally comes in.

She sees him immediately and doesn’t even order anything before marching over to him. She sits down on the opposite side of the table, neatly folding her hands on the table between them.

“Hey,” she says, a little breathless.

“Hey.” 

“Simon broke up with me.”

Wow, so no small talk at all, just straight to the point.

“Oh,” Jace says. 

“Yeah,” she smiles, but it’s not the light-up-the-room smile she usually dons. “There’s no hard feelings though. He’s met someone else and I don’t think either of us were really into it anyway.”

 _He’s met someone else._  

The words seem to echo through the air.

Either that someone is Jace, which seems too good to be true, or Simon has met someone who is not currently seated at this table.

He swallows roughly. “That’s, um, good?”

“I think so,” she says. She taps her fingernails against the tabletop a few times and then clasps her hands together. “Which means I’m single again.”

“Oh,” Jace says, surprise coloring his voice. “Right.”

She smiles. “Still interested?”

Well, that’s definitely not where he thought this impromptu coffee date would go.

It’s incredible how everything can change in just a few minutes, with just a few words.

He’s been wanting Clary back for _months_ ; way longer than he’s even known Simon. He’s worked so hard to get her back, put so much energy and effort towards this one goal. Would he really throw all that away for an unlikely chance that Simon reciprocates his feelings?

It’s been _days_ since he told Simon how he felt and he still hasn’t heard from him. Not even a text or a phone call. Just absolute silence. If Simon felt the same way about him, wouldn’t he have said so by now?

While his relationship to Simon is complicated, scary and confusing, getting back together with Clary would have a lot of upsides. For one, he can comfortably reclaim his identity as a straight man and he can begin to forget that this… _thing_ with Simon ever happened. Maybe he and Clary can be happy together. They _were_ happy together, once upon a time.

And his parents… His conservative, judgmental parents. They would be a lot more pleased if he brought home Clary (read: a straight white girl) for the holidays than if he brought Simon (read: a Jewish and possibly, hopefully, maybe bisexual boy).

Clary is safe. They have history together and they’re comfortable with each other, even if they fight a lot. In fact, on paper they’re kind of a perfect match, which is probably why Jace pursued her for so long. He should be ecstatic that Clary wants to get back together. So why is he suddenly struggling to breathe?

“Jace?” Clary says, waving a hand in front of his face. “You okay?”

He blinks quickly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” He reaches out and takes one of her hands in his, a smirk settling on his lips. “So, you were saying something about how badly you want me and maybe something about how handsome I am?”

Flirting has always come easily to him. It’s a relief to let his instincts take over and run on autopilot while he tries to silence the deafening thoughts trying to steal his attention.

Clary just smiles at him. She leans forward slightly and glances down at his lips. His smirk widens.

“You totally want to kiss me.”

She pretends to turn up her nose at the idea, but she’s smiling and when Jace doesn’t initiate it, she sighs and grabs a handful of his shirt to pull him in.

It feels just like old times. Clary tastes vaguely of her favorite strawberry lip balm and the taste of it brings him back to all the times they used to make out in the alley behind the art gallery.

Well, it’s not _just_ like old times. Where there would usually be a metaphorical set of fireworks going off right about now, instead there’s just a vague tingling sensation in his belly. He’s not sure if it’s just because they haven’t kissed in a while and they’re out of sync, or if the worst has happened and he really isn’t interested in her anymore.

So he kisses her again, to make sure. They try a few more times but something is just… off. Like when you’re stuck on a puzzle and you finally think you’ve found the piece you need, but it doesn’t quite slot in perfectly with the other pieces.

As they pull back, Jace takes his hands with him and leans far back in his chair.

“That was fun,” Clary says, her voice searching.

“Yeah,” Jace says. “A little awkward, but fun.”

They share a short and very insincere laugh.

Clary discreetly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and reaches into her purse to grab her lip balm. Watching her apply it, something snaps inside of him. He needs to get out of here and be alone with his thoughts for a while.

Standing sort of abruptly, he says, “Sorry, I gotta go. We should get together again soon and talk about, you know, us. I think I need some time to think.”

She nods, a little taken aback but his sudden departure. “Oh okay, that sounds good.”

They exchange a quick kiss before parting ways outside the little shop. Jace walks around his block four times before he’s finally, sort of, collected all the thoughts running rampant in his head. When he gets home, he falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow.

 

_Simon_

 

So. Jace is in love with him. Or so he says.

It’s been a good five days since the surprising confession and it still doesn’t make any sense. It’s been a wild rollercoaster of intoxicating joy and incredibly intense anxiety because everything seems too good to be true. He’s tried to process it but no matter how long he spends turning it over in his head, it just doesn’t sink in.

He hasn’t seen Jace since that day. They haven’t even exchanged a single text. On at least a dozen different occasions, he’s started to type out a message, but every time he’s ended up deleting it with a frustrated groan because no words seem to express the turmoil inside of him. He can’t even begin to wonder how Jace is taking this radio silence, because that on top of the other anxiety is just too overwhelming. One crisis at a time, thank you very much.

Because he wants to believe that Jace is telling the truth, he really does, but he doesn’t know how to ask Jace for the reassurance he needs to soothe his anxieties. He doesn’t want to come off as too needy, but what he really wants is to ask for a thorough breakdown of how and when these supposed feelings developed, preferably in MLA format with cited sources and put on his desk by tomorrow morning.

He _knows_ that’s a ridiculous thing to need and an even more ridiculous thing to actually ask for, but right now it feels impossible to just accept at face value that Jace, wonderful and amazing Jace, has fallen in love with him without Simon even noticing it.

The worst thing is, the second Jace revealed how he felt, Simon was struck by the undeniable conviction that he felt the same way. Even if he couldn’t believe Jace’s feelings were real, for the first time he felt certain of his own feelings. It’s like he needed to hear Jace verbalize how he felt to put his own feelings into words.

There’s no question about it. Every time he thinks about Jace, there’s a flutter in his belly. On more than one occasion, he’s caught himself smiling as a memory pops into his head. His favorites are the ones where he’d wake up with Jace sleeping next to him and he’d just lie there, watching him sleep.

He really should’ve figured it out sooner.

Of course he’s in love with Jace. He’s been for a long time but it seemed so implausible that his feelings would be requited. It’s only now that he’s realized that he subconsciously forced himself to channel all those feelings into friendship instead of facing the fact that he was falling head over heels for this boy for the past few months.

But now the floodgates have opened and all the feelings rise to the surface at once. He thinks about those drunk kisses at the party with Jace’s arms around him; about the countless nights spent together, baking and drinking wine and watching Netflix; about the banter and the teasing and all the lingering looks.

It’s really hard not to smile as he imagines all the different scenarios of how he should tell Jace that he loves him too. The romantic in him imagines running to Jace’s apartment in pouring rain and reuniting in a wet, passionate kiss full of tears and raindrops, or something equally dramatic. He lies in bed daydreaming of the look on Jace’s face when he tells him. Maybe he’ll literally sweep Simon off his feet and kiss him until neither of them can breathe and they have to pull back.

He can honestly say that he’s never felt like this before about anyone. No one has made him feel this light and happy, even though he’s still very much a nervous wreck about finally telling Jace that he feels the same way. He probably should have done it sooner, but he needed these extra days to let it sink in and to remind himself it’s not a dream. Because it truly does feel like he must be making this up in his head. How could someone as gorgeous and incredible as Jace be into him?

It feels so surreal, but he keeps reminding himself of all the signs; Jace kissing him all those times at the party, the two of them hanging out all the time and sleeping in the same bed all wrapped up in each other, Jace letting him keep one of his favorite shirts for no reason other than that it made Simon happy. All the evidence points to the fact that Jace does like him, but it still seems too good to be true.

But despite the insecurity and the anxiety creeping up on him, he tells himself not to worry. Jace likes him and he likes Jace.

As he reminds himself of this fact, his mind is again flooded by images of him and Jace running towards each other –– this time they’re on a train station for some reason –– and they meet in the middle, Jace wrapping Simon up in his arms and kissing him again and again and again until Simon giggles and tells him he needs to breathe. His belly flutters and clenches as he imagines kissing Jace, sober this time. He imagines Jace smiling into the kiss, holding Simon closer and kissing his cheek, his neck...

He’s abruptly awoken from his daydreams by a knock on the front door. He’s almost out of bed when he hears Maureen unlocking and opening the door with a cheery “Hello!”.

Flopping back onto his bed, he tries to decipher who’s at the door through the snippets that come drifting into his room. He can hear muffled conversation but it takes a good minute before he recognizes Clary’s voice.

He gets out of bed and grabs a hoodie to put on over his PJ’s before heading out into the hallway.

“Hey,” Clary greets him when he enters the hall. She smiles and waves a little.

“Hi,” he replies, a little confused still. “What’s– what’s going on?”

“Oh, I’m just here to pick up my stuff,” Clary says. Glancing at his attire, she adds anxiously, “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Simon says and waves her over to his room. She hugs Maureen who then disappears back into her room while Clary and Simon go back to his.

“I meant to pack a box for you,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “But uh, some stuff happened and I forgot. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Clary says with a smile. It’s a little strained, but he chalks that up to the fact that they’re exes trying to navigate a recently terminated relationship.

Together they pack the little backpack she’s brought with her. There’s not a lot to pack, mostly just a t-shirt here and there and some skincare things she’s left in his bathroom.

Everything goes smoothly at first. They pack in silence except for the occasional “hey, remember this?” as they come across something with shared memories tied to it.

But then Simon asks, “So what’s new with you? Seeing anyone new?”

It’s meant to be a joke because they only broke up a week or so ago, but Clary stiffens slightly.

“Uh, yeah, actually I am,” she says, suddenly avoiding his eyes. She turns her back on him slightly to rifle through his wardrobe, even though they’ve already covered that.

“Oh yeah?” he asks. He’s not really upset because why would he be? He’s figured out that Clary isn’t the one he wants to be with. He can still sense her tension, so he continues, “That’s totally fine, by the way. No hard feelings. Our break-up was mutual, right? I think it’s cool you’re putting yourself out there again.”

She turns back to him, probably trying to gauge if he’s genuine. He seems to pass the test because her shoulders lose the tension she’d been holding and she starts to smile. “Oh that’s great. It can be so awkward, you know?”

He nods. “Totally. So who’s this new guy?” He teases her a little bit, trying to put her at ease because even though they’re no longer seeing each other, he really would like to keep her as a friend. 

“It’s actually an ex of mine,” she says, more casually now. She spots a pair of her socks sticking out from under Simon’s bed and reaches for it. “We kind of reconnected a while back. He’s a nice guy, once you get to know him.” She laughs a little.

“I’m glad you found someone,” Simon says genuinely, and they exchange smiles.

“What about you? Are you just enjoying being single?” She grins.

“Well... “ He begins, hesitating.

“You know, if you’re looking for someone new, I think my ex––” She interrupts herself. “I guess he’s not my ex anymore, is he? We haven’t made it official or anything but… anyway. I’m sure he can set you up with someone if you want. He’s kind of a womanizer so he’s got a lot of contacts.”

“Doesn’t seem like your type,” Simon laughs.

“Well, Jace is a bit of a douchebag sometimes but he’s nice deep down, you know?”

Simon jolts a little. Did she just say…

“We were really casual the first time around, kind of like friends with benefits, I guess. He’s got this way about him that’s really intriguing. One of the reasons we broke up actually is because he was kind of dabbling in modelling for a while – some agent scouted him because of his unique eyes, I think it’s called heterochromia, where you’ve got different colored eyes. It’s really cool. Anyway, he got in with a bad crowd that made him really selfish and self-absorbed, so I broke it off. But then we reconnected a few months ago and he’s a whole different person than who he used to be. He’s still got that tough exterior but honestly, he’s a big softie.” She’s not facing Simon, so she can’t see the color draining from his face as she continues, “The devil is in the details, you know? Last time we dated, before he turned out to be a jerk, I was always complaining about not being able to watch the earlier seasons of Great British Bake Off because they’re not on Netflix, and he got all of them for me on DVD for my birthday. Isn’t that so sweet?”

Jace. Two-colored eyes. Kind of an asshole, but sweet on the inside. Bakeoff? A shiver runs down Simon’s spine. There’s no way this is all a coincidence.

She turns around to face him, mouth already open to go on gushing about her boyfriend, but then closes it again as her eyes land on Simon who has gone very quiet. Through the panic-induced haze he realizes that his face probably betrays the profound shock he’s experiencing at this new revelation, but he doesn’t really care to put up a brave face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Simon. I totally overshared. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Simon interrupts. He bends over and zips up the backpack before handing it to her. “Got everything?”

His voice is clipped and short, and she correctly interprets it as her cue to leave. She attempts some further small talk as she puts on her jacket and gets ready to leave, but it’s as if the air has been punched out of him because it feels impossible to speak. 

“Well, bye then,” she says, a tad awkwardly. He nods and they share a very brief hug before Clary leaves, still looking very confused about Simon’s abrupt attitude change.

When he’s finally alone, he sinks down onto the floor, his back pressed against the door; exhausted by the energy required to refrain from slamming the door in Clary’s face and just screaming at the top of his lungs. Burying his head against his knees, he feels the tears stinging in his eyes.

Is there _any_ way that Clary’s new boyfriend isn’t also the same guy who just confessed his feelings to Simon mere days ago? It feels impossible.

Did he really move on that quickly or was it all just a cruel prank? Was it Simon’s own fault because he’d taken too long to tell Jace he felt the same, or was the fact that he spent a week agonizing over it what saved him from the humiliation of Jace laughing in his face?

_I’m entrusting this to you, so don’t tell anyone._

_Don’t tell anyone._

Jace's words echo through his head. It’s so small, silly even, but somehow this feels like the greatest betrayal. It’s only one of the ways Jace has been vulnerable with him, but it still felt significant that he felt comfortable sharing this thing with Simon that he apparently hadn’t told anyone else, even if it was just about a dumb TV show he was embarrassed to admit he liked.

But before it had been _their_ thing, it had been Jace and Clary’s thing.

Like a bolt of lightning, it hits him. Those photos.

A gasp ripples through him. Were those photos of Clary’s ex just Jace all along? God, he’s so stupid. All that time, he was talking to and confiding in Jace about all these details about his relationship with Clary, about her handsome ex-boyfriend in all those photos, and Jace said nothing. It seems extremely unlikely that Jace was unaware of the fact that his ex and Simon’s girlfriend were the same person.

Had all these months just been a sick ploy for Jace to get closer to his ex by befriending her boyfriend? Was Simon just a pawn?

Was anything between them real? 

His head spinning, he lets out a sob.

Maureen’s door swings open and she looks out into the hallway, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“I thought I heard Cl– oh, honey.”

She rushes to his side, kneeling beside him and embracing him. The sobs take over him as she holds him closer, rocking him gently through his tears.

“What happened?” she whispers, later when he’s calmed down. “Did something happen with Clary?”

It’s another couple of minutes before Simon’s voice is steady enough to speak. He tells her about what Clary said, his suspicions and anxieties, as well as his mindnumbing anger that he didn’t figure it out sooner.

“You didn’t know,” she soothes him, “How could you? I mean, okay, the photos were a bit of a giveaway but– how could you have known they knew each other?”

Not really hearing her, too caught up in his own anxiety, he continues, “All those times I talked about Clary and he never said anything. Not once. It has to be deliberate, right? Do you think he just used me? Did he even want to be my friend? I don’t––”

“Simon,” Maureen interrupts him, taking his hands into her own. Smiling gently, she says, “Snap out of it. Getting stuck in this cycle of bad thoughts isn’t gonna do you any good.”

“I know,” he groans, “But I can’t stop thinking about it. I love him and he doesn’t even––” He stops as Maureen’s face falls a little. “What?”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were in love with him,” she says, quieter now. “I just thought it was a crush. Fuck, that really sucks, man.”

He sighs. “God, I don’t know what to do. Do you think there’s any chance our friendship had nothing to do with Clary? Because all I can imagine is him befriending me to, like, put a wedge between us, and that’s why he told me he loves me so I’d break up with her, and then he swept in to ask her out the second she’s single again. But that’s insane, right?”

She hesitates. “Yeah, it’s insane.”

His shoulders relax a little.

“But,” she continues, snapping that tension right back into place again, “Honestly? The first time I met him, I really got a fuckboy vibe. I’m sorry, but I did. Maybe he’s really dumb enough to pull something like this. Why else would he get back with Clary the second you break up with her, literally right after telling you he loves you? It just seems like too big of a coincidence.”

She rubs his back as way of consoling him.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Simon agonizes. “Do I confront him? Do I tell Clary what an asshole he is? Should I just block his number and cut him out of my life? I don’t––” Sobs bubble up in his throat again and spill over.

“Honey I don’t know,” Maureen says sadly. “I think you should talk to him. Maybe it’s a big misunderstanding, even though I can’t see how that’s possible. Either way I think you’ll regret it if you just cut him off without at least having some closure.”

He sniffles and nods slightly. “Yeah, you’re right.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit you guys! I know this fic has been dragging on for way too long but the end is finally in sight! There's just one (pretty long) chapter left now and I've only got the very last scene left to write, and then this baby will be all wrapped up. Finally!
> 
> I can't believe it's been 1,5 years since I first posted this story on here, and at the end of November it'll be 2 years since I first started writing it. It's totally bananas and I can't believe it's taken so long but I'm SO happy to almost be done with it!

_Jace_

It’s been 9 days since that fateful day on Simon’s doorstep. 9 days of complete radio silence. He’s texted Simon a couple of times with no response other than that dreaded little icon telling him the text has been read. The texts were innocent enough, a simple greeting or a cute animal GIF, but none of them got a response.

With Clary, it’s the opposite. She’s sent him a grand total of 7 texts since they last saw each other a few days ago, of which he’s only replied to 2.

He’s spent the last couple of days trying to figure out where he stands in all this. Should he give him and Clary another shot or should he take the leap and hope that Simon not only feels the same but also that Jace is brave enough to be with him?

Every time he thinks he’s close to an answer, it slips through his fingers.

Well, no good decision has ever been made on an empty stomach, he tells himself as he hauls himself out of bed and into the kitchen to make some breakfast.

Meliorn is already in the kitchen, an oven mitt shaped like a cat’s paw on one hand and a book in the other as he leans against the kitchen island, now and then leaning over to stir the contents of the frying pan on the stove.

He looks up as Jace enters.

“You look horrible,” he says as way of greeting before turning back to his book.

Jace flips him off and squeezes past him to get to his life elixir, otherwise known as coffee. Meliorn’s not wrong though, he realizes as he catches a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the coffee pot, revealing a tired-looking man with tousled hair and dull skin.

Pouring his coffee, he peers into the frying pan.

“Are you–”

“Yes,” Meliorn interrupts without looking up, “I’m making enough for everyone.”

Jace laughs and ruffles his hair affectionately, much to Meliorn’s bemusement.

Hopping up on the kitchen island next to him, Jace pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through his notifications.

A few seconds of silence, blissful silence, and then––

An undignified shriek erupts from Jace’s throat, vaguely resembling the word “fuck”. Then begins the slow motion horror show of watching the phone flying out of his hands and slowly, painfully slowly, making its way towards the tiled floor. Jace has barely closed his mouth around a scream before Meliorn snatches the phone right out of the air, fragments of a second before hitting the ground.

He hands it back to his friend without a word.

“What the–” Jace whispers, cradling his phone to his chest as his life passes before his eyes.

“So why did you scream like a Victorian lady seeing a ghost?” Meliorn asks, still casually flicking through his book.

In the panic of dropping his phone, Jace had momentarily forgot what set off the whole chain of events.

Scrambling to unlock his phone, he pulls up the text and shows it to Meliorn, who reads it aloud.

“We should talk,” he says slowly. He reads it a couple more times and then looks back at Jace with a shrug. “So?”

“It’s from Simon,” Jace hisses, pulling back the phone and reading the text again. “He wants to talk. Oh my god.”

At that, Meliorn finally pulls out a bookmark, slides it between the pages of the book and puts it down on the counter.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Jace hesitates. He hasn’t really told anyone about the latest developments between him and Simon. Or him and Clary, for that matter. And for some reason he’s not very keen on sharing that information.

But Meliorn’s piercing gaze is impossible to resist, so he ends up telling him everything anyway. About halfway through his recap, Izzy enters the kitchen, wrapped up in a silk robe with her hair tied in a bun so messy it barely even qualifies as a bun anymore. She grabs a cup of coffee and joins the conversation.

“So basically, I don’t know how I feel,” Jace says finally, a good 10 minutes later. “The plan worked and Clary is into me again so I have no use for Simon anymore, but I can’t stand the thought of never seeing him again. I mean, am I gay? Shouldn’t I have figured that out already if I was, like Alec did? He says he knew when he was just a kid.” He looks between them, waiting for an answer.

They exchange tired looks, which only agitates Jace’s worries even more.

“What?” he asks, a little too harshly.

“Well,” Meliorn says, and Jace can tell by the forced diplomatic tone in his voice that he’s about to say something he thinks Jace won’t agree with. “I thought this was a bad plan to begin with and I want that on the record.”

“Yes, I know,” Jace says impatiently.

“Yes,” Meliorn says, weighing his every word. “And I don’t think you’ve been fair to this sweet young man who, as far as I’m concerned, has only been good to you.”

“I know that,” Jace groans, “And that’s why I don’t think there’s a future for us even if–” He swallows with some effort. “Even if I admit that I like him. There’s no coming back from this and I can’t just keep lying to him either.”

Meliorn hums. “Well, that is true. But maybe…” He pauses and exchanges a glance with Izzy. “Maybe you should figure yourself out before you go any further with him. He’s a sweet boy and––”

“He doesn’t deserve being treated like this, I know,” Jace says, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I know that, but I just… I don’t know what I want and if I don’t talk to him now, I’m scared I’ll never get the chance.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you started this whole mess,” Izzy says under her breath, taking a slow sip of her coffee.

Jace jumps a little. She hasn’t really participated much in the conversation and he’s not used to her using that tone with him.

“Sorry?” He says, out of confusion more than anything.

She gives him a quick look that is equal measures anger and hurt, and then she slams the coffee cup on the counter and leaves the kitchen. Within minutes, they can hear the apartment door slam shut.

Jace slowly turns to Meliorn, his mouth agape. “What the fuck was that?”

Meliorn is still looking after her, a worried frown between his brows. He snaps out of it when Jace repeats his question, and then turns to look at him. “I, uh… I’m sure she’s just tired.”

He gently pushes past Jace and goes to stir their collective breakfast.

Jace decides to put Izzy’s weird behaviour out of his mind. He’ll ask her later tonight what he’s done wrong, but for now he needs to focus on this whole Simon business.

“So–” he starts, but Meliorn cuts him off, eyes trained on the stove.

“Look, I didn’t want to tell you this because I thought it should be your own decision, but to everyone around you it’s very obvious that you’ve never been as happy as you’ve been with Simon. You and Clary fought all the time and you were always torturing yourself over every little aspect of your relationship. You and Simon aren’t like that,” he says, finally turning to face Jace for his big conclusion. His expression is solemn as he continues, “Maybe he’ll never forgive you, and I wouldn’t blame him at all if that’s the case because you’ve been a total dick to him, but you need to tell him anyway. You can’t go running back to Clary just because facing what you really want is scary. You’re not being fair to yourself, her or Simon.”

Jace opens his mouth to speak, but Meliorn holds up a hand to silence him. “Let me finish, because you clearly need to hear this.”

He pulls off the oven mitt and takes Jace’s face in his hands, which is an unusually intimate gesture even for him. “Don’t worry about whether you’re gay or not. I didn’t realize I was bi until a few years ago. Everyone’s journey is different and it’s all okay. The only thing that isn’t okay is you sacrificing your happiness to be someone you think other people want you to be.”

He lets go of Jace’s face and turns back to the stove, as if he hadn’t just had the most emotionally raw conversation the two of them had in years.

Jace just stares at him, trying to process what he’d just said.

––––––––––––

It’s two hours later and Jace is sitting on a bench in the park, his right leg bouncing up and down as he waits. The nervous tic reminds him too much of Simon, so he stops.

It feels like he’s been here forever, stuck in limbo, just waiting. He still doesn’t know what he’s going to say or how this conversation will turn out. He doesn’t even know how he _wants_ it to turn out.

He looks around to distract himself. Winter has come and gone, and the snow is almost entirely gone from the ground now. There’s still a crispness to the air and Jace catches himself wishing he’d brought a thicker jacket.

The crunch of gravel being walked on makes him jump and turn around.

He’s hit by the unmistakable feeling of déjà vu as he spots Simon walking down the exact same path where Jace first saw him all those months ago.

He’s wearing his trademark jean jacket and a bright yellow hoodie, the hood sticking up underneath the collar of the jacket. He’s as beautiful as always, even without the radiant smile he usually wears.

Simon sits down on the bench next to him and before Jace can stop himself, he blurts out, “How do you feel?”

Simon jolts a little at the abrupt question. Shrugging his shoulders, he says, “A little cold.”

“I meant–”

“I know what you meant,” Simon says in a breath. He’s looking straight ahead, not meeting Jace’s gaze.

“So... “ Jace inquires, his heart beating faster by the second. He smiles nervously.

Simon doesn’t say anything at first. He quietly looks out at the serene park, slowly crossing his legs and clasping his hands over his knee.

While he’s waiting for Simon to respond, Jace studies his profile; the fluttering of his eyelashes, the slight quiver of his lips. He wonders if it’s the cold or something else.

When he finally turns to look at Jace, it feels like a year has passed.

“I, uh,” he says, clearing his throat. He glances down at his hands, now nervously picking at a loose thread on his hoodie sleeve. “Yeah, I– I like you too.”

Jace had played this scenario in his head over and over again until it felt like he was going mad, and yet nothing could have prepared him for this moment.

Not being able to control himself, his face breaks out into a huge grin. “Really?” He’s itching to reach over and take Simon’s hand, but he’s not sure if Simon wants him to.

“Yeah,” Simon says. He looks up at Jace and the corners of his mouth tug slightly upward, but he still doesn’t seem quite like himself.

“That’s–” Jace runs a hand through his hair, messing up the carefully coiffed hairstyle he had perfected before the leaving the apartment. “Fuck, I didn’t expect that.”

Simon’s laughs, a small and careful laugh that still sends shivers down Jace’s spine because fuck, it’s been too long since he’s heard Simon laugh. He wants to laugh at himself for ever thinking being with Clary could make him happier than being with Simon.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised, you've always it's impossible for anyone not to have a crush on you.”

Jace’s brain bulldozes past the majority of that sentence. His grin gets even bigger, almost to the point of hurting. “You have a crush on me?”

Simon blushes softly, but doesn’t answer. Jace takes that as a yes.

“Can I kiss you?” he blurts out, again surprising himself with his lack of self-control. Usually so in control of himself, it’s scary to be around someone who takes that control away from you.

Simon seems equally surprised, but then he uncrosses his legs and shifts slightly so he’s turned more towards Jace before breathlessly letting out a, “Yeah.”

Jace shifts a bit closer still until their knees touch, his hand gently settling on Simon’s thigh. He follows Simon’s gaze as it slowly moves from Jace’s hand on his thigh to his lips to his eyes.

As if on cue, they both lean in at the same time.

All of eternity could fill the seconds before their lips touch. It’s tentative at first, the smallest amount of pressure as they meet in the middle, two halves slotting together to make a whole. Then Jace’s fingers curl slightly into the soft flesh of Simon’s thigh and Simon leans in further on instinct, his hand travelling from his lap to Jace’s arm to his neck.

His hand is cold against Jace’s bare skin and Simon instinctively pulls it away at the contrast in temperature, lips still locked together.

Jace leans back only slightly to mumble a quick “No it’s fine” before kissing him again, the pressure slowly building with every little kiss.

While Simon’s hands are cold, his lips are warm. Slightly chapped, as Jace knows they get when Simon is nervous, but warm and gentle against his own.

The kiss isn’t very intense at all, it’s more like your typical first time kissing a new person where you’re both tentative and nervous to fuck up, but Jace still has to pull away pretty soon to... well, not really to breathe but just sort of collect himself and will his heart not to beat right out of his chest and physically and literally put itself in Simon’s hands.

He can hear his own laboured breathing as he blinks his eyes open to take in Simon: his cheeks flushed pink from the cold, his hand still resting against Jace’s neck, tickling the little hairs there. His hair is ruffled from the wind and Jace really wants to run his hands through those soft strands.

He licks his lips as Simon’s hand slides off his skin and settles on his own lap instead. Jace is surprised by how much he wants to kiss him again. He’s had crushes before, he’s even been in love before, but this feels fresh and intense in a way he’s never experienced until now. It’s like he can’t get close enough, even when they’re kissing, he just wants more and more and more.

Simon seems to be of the same mind because he hesitates for a moment, opens his mouth to say something, and then sighs and slips his arm around Jace’s shoulder and tugs him into another kiss, their knees knocking together with the force of it.

This time, there’s nothing gentle about it, but Jace still melts into it, letting the heat of Simon’s mouth warm him from the outside in. He grabs hold of Simon’s jacket, his thumb running over the rough jean material, and holds on for dear life as Simon kisses him with everything he has, teeth and tongue and everything.

Jace can hear himself half-sighing, half-moaning into the kiss and can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed. The kiss ends as abruptly as it started, and Simon pulls back both with his mouth and his body.

He looks strange and Jace can’t help but wonder if he’s not as good of a kisser as he thought.

“I, uh,” Simon says, tugging his jacket tighter around his body. “I gotta go.”

“Oh, okay,” Jace says, opening his mouth to ask why but Simon has already gotten up and started to walk away.

“Text me?” Jace calls after him, and Simon calls something back that sounds vaguely like “Okay!” but Jace isn’t sure.

He watches Simon briskly walking across the park until he’s out of sight, and then he slumps back against the cold park bench, as the physical chill against his back blends together with the growing cold in his chest.

 

_Simon_

 

Simon’s heart is heavy and only gets heavier with every step he takes over the frost-bitten grass. He can see a lonely person sitting on a bench in the distance and he knows it’s Jace, whether it’s intuition or body language he’s not sure, but he knows it nonetheless.

Forcing himself to keep walking, he focuses on the stiff grass under his shoes, then the crunch of gravel, and before he knows it he reaches the bench and sits down next to Jace.

He can tell Jace has been here for a while because he looks very cold and his ears and the tip of his nose are red. He looks anxious and Simon fleetingly appreciates not being alone in his anxiety for once.

“How do you feel?” Jace asks and Simon doesn’t know how to answer because how is he supposed to put his feelings into words when they change every other minute, ranging from terrified to humiliated to hopeful to sad, and that’s only a fraction of the range he's constantly dealing with. His feelings and emotions stretch and bend for miles and he can’t even begin to unpack all of them, let alone name them all.

If his emotional life was a present, his heart would be the gift at the bottom of the box, his feelings would be the packing peanuts strewn all around it, and his anxiety would be the layers upon layers upon layers of fine silk paper taking up the majority of the space within the box, slowly but surely crushing the heart at the bottom of it all.

He doesn’t know what he wants to say to Jace, or what he wants Jace to say, or how he wants this meeting to go. His plan had been to tell Jace that he knows, about the lies he’s told and the scheming. He knows about Clary.

But seeing Jace, feeling the warmth of his body next to him on this small bench, his resolve has quickly started to melt. He doesn’t want to cut Jace out of his life, and he doesn’t want to tell him that he knows of his betrayal. He just wants a few moments with him before he has to watch his world fall apart at his feet. And if he's being honest with himself, he just wants to tell Jace that he loves him and that they can work this out, together.

 

Against his better judgment, he says it. It's not the whole truth but it's definitely part of it and seeing Jace’s worried features split into a heartwarming grin makes him think he made the right call. Jace is so beautiful like this, smiling so wide even as the cold makes him shiver, but even his beauty can’t strip away the pain in Simon’s heart.

Because every word of it is true. Simon does like him back, probably more than he should, and a part of him wants to see Jace’s reaction. He’s half expecting him to reveal that it’s a prank or just another step in his plan to get to Clary, and half waiting for him to say that it’s only ever been him, that everything with Clary was just a mistake, a miscommunication somehow.

And more than anything, the thought of telling Jace the truth and then never seeing him again is too painful to cope with, so looking at the wind ruffling Jace’s hair and the way he bites his bottom lip in anticipation, Simon decides to pretend.

Even if it’s just for a few minutes, he wants to know what it’s like being the kind of person that someone like Jace could fall in love with. Even if it isn’t true, even if there is so much bullshit between them that a relationship could never work. He just wants a taste of the life he could have had, had things been different.

“Can I kiss you?”

The words crash over him like a tidal wave. He knows that he should say no and end this charade once and for all, that he shouldn't let himself kiss Jace and inevitably fall in more in love with him, but Jace is looking at him like _that_ and is it really so bad to want a goodbye kiss before they part ways?

He hears himself agreeing and suddenly Jace is right there, anchoring him to the physical world with his strong fingers digging into Simon’s thigh while his lips are transporting him to another dimension entirely.

It’s hesitant and sweet and nothing at all like the drunk kisses they once shared. It feels like that happened a whole lifetime ago, and like he’s spent his whole life waiting to be kissed by those same lips again.

Jace’s arm is firm under his touch, his muscles flexing as Simon’s fingers skim over them.

Somehow this kiss feels more real than any kiss he’s ever had, but at the same time he’s painfully aware of the crumbling foundation beneath their feet. As much as he tries to push away the thoughts of betrayal and hurt and insecurity, they just keep on coming, crashing into his mind without bothering about the consequences.

But, he finally decides, if this is to be his last time kissing Jace, he wants to get it all out of his system. And he tries to, he really does. He throws himself completely into the kiss, clutching to Jace as if he’s the only thing anchoring him to this world. Jace grabs him back, clawing at his jacket to bring him in closer.

And for a second, Simon succeeds. His brain is too occupied with absorbing all this new sensory information – Jace’s hands on him, his lips, the way his breathing gets all ragged when they’re kissing – and for a blissful moment, they are the only two people in the world. No worries, no lies.

There’s just the two of them. Jace lets out these soft little sounds that are somewhere between a breath and a moan and Simon’s back arches into him, tugging him even closer as he does so.

But then reality crashes back into him and he abruptly pulls back, his eyes wide and unblinking as he untangles from Jace and gets to his feet.

He can’t do this.

Mumbling some excuse, he leaves as quickly as he can, forcing himself not to break into a run.

The tears start to pour down his cheeks the second he’s out of sight from the park bench and he doesn’t even care that people are staring at him. Normally so self-conscious, his current heartache is even overriding his anxiety, which is really a tall order.

Stumbling into his apartment, he immediately goes into Maureen’s room and curls up in her bed, crying his heart out against her shoulder and vowing to never give his heart to anyone else ever again.


End file.
